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FAMOUS 


PICTURES OF CHILDREN 


BY 

JULIA AUGUSTA SCHWARTZ 

H 

AUTHOR OF “ FIVE LITTLE STRANGERS, “ VASSAR 
STUDIES,” “ WILDERNESS RABIES,” ETC. 




NEW YORK CINCINNATI CHICAGO 

AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 





\ LtflKftHY o? CONGRESS 
Two C«oies Received 

OCT 86 


Coovnu1»f Entry 
July Z-y tfj 
<£ A XXc .1 No. 


CL A 


(S^^t 

COPY B. 



Copyright. 1907. by 
JULIA AUGUSTA SCHWARTZ. 
W. P. I 









PREFACE 


At this time, when reproductions of great paintings 
are on every schoolroom wall, the child’s earliest curiosity 
is about the picture; later, about the man who made it. 
Whatever interest he may feel in the worker springs from 
his acquaintance with the work, not vice verm . Accord¬ 
ingly, it seems sensible to give the younger pupils stories 
of the paintings first and biographies of the painters 
afterward. 

In limiting this book to pictures of young people, the 
idea has been to appeal to one of the strongest instincts 
of childhood. Every child is attracted to other children. 
He cares more for puppies and kittens than for older 
animals. Undoubtedly, he is moved by the feeling of 
kinship, as if all young creatures lived in a world of their 
own apart from grown-up persons. 

In this busy world of theirs, normal children as a rule 
do not care for a thing merely because it is beautiful. 
They are not interested in line, color, and composition. 
To them every picture worth noticing must have a mean¬ 
ing, a story. But in a book that seeks, however lightly, 
to teach the beginning of an appreciation of art, the story 

is not enough. Just as the painting is greater than a 

3 


4 


photograph of the same scene, so the description of it 
must be more than a plain record of facts. It should aim 
by its selection of details, by its manner of presentation, 
and by its varying stress upon different elements in char¬ 
acter and action, to convey the same impression as that 
produced by the painting itself. Thus the effect on the 
child’s mind is deepened, and since each picture is repre¬ 
sentative of the artist’s distinctive qualities, the result is 
a more or less accurate conception of his claim to great¬ 
ness. 

A final point to be noted in the following stories is the 
emphasis that falls naturally upon what may be called 
manners and morals. The children in this beautiful 
world of art are all good children. Some are more charm¬ 
ing than others, some are more lovable, some are more 
courageous, others more unselfish. But every one is 
attractive in some trait of disposition as shown in face or 
attitude. Hence, the pupil in beginning to understand 
beauty learns also to associate with it the idea of goodness. 


CONTENTS 

PART I 


SOME LITTLE CHILDREN OF LONG AGO 

The Children of Charles the First. Van Dyck. page 

1. Going to have their picture painted.9 

2. In the studio.12 

3. What became of them afterward.14 

The Strawberry Girl. Beynolds. 

1. The little country child.17 

2. How she went to the city.19 

3. Gathering wild strawberries.21 

4. How she lived happily ever afterward.24 

The Blue Boy. Gainsborough. 

1. What we know about the boy in blue.27 

2. What we may imagine about him.28 

3. His possible adventures on a journey.30 

4. His portrait . *.33 

The Maids of Honor. Velasquez. 

1. Her little royal highness.35 

2. A real scene in the palace., .39 

3. Growing up by rule.41 

The Princes in the Tower. Millais. 

1. The prince who hoped to become king.45 

2. The wicked uncle . 49 

3. This picture of the princes.52 

Feeding her Birds. Millet. 

1. The painter of the poor.55 

2. At play in the dooryard.56 

3. The idea in the picture.58 

5 





6 


Mother and Daughter. Lebrun. page 

1. A little French girl’s home ....... 61 

2. Jeanne’s portrait.65 

3. The flight from Paris.66 

Rubens’ Sons. Rubens. 

1. The two brothers.69 

2. How their father painted them.73 

3. The art of Rubens.75 

Jacob Blessing the Sons of Joseph. Rembrandt. 

1. The Bible story.77 

2. The picture.79 


PAKT II 

PAINTINGS OF THE CHRIST CHILD 


The Holy Night. Correggio. 

1. The first Christmas Eve.83 

2. The scene in the stable.86 

3. The “Light of the World”.89 

Adoration of the Magi. Durer. 

1. The story of the wise men.91 

2. This picture of their visit.93 

3. Why the picture seems lifelike . . . . .95 

Coronation of the Madonna. Botticelli. 

1. Pictures of the Madonna.99 

2. An imaginary scene.. . 100 

3. The painting itself.102 

The Madonna of the Rocks. Leonardo da Vinci. 

1. Two little cousins.105 

2. The artist.107 

3. How the picture is like a dream.109 

Children of the Shell. Murillo. 

1. The journey home from Egypt.113 

2. At the spring.116 

3. The meaning of the picture.117 














7 


St. Christopher. Titian. 

1. The story of St. Christopher . 

2. The painting. 

The Finding of Christ in the Temple. Hunt. 

1. The Bible story. 

2. The painting. 

3. The meaning of the picture . 

The Sistine Madonna. Raphael. 

The “ divine Raphael ” . 

2. The painting. 

3. The spirit of the picture 


PAGE 
. 120 
. 128 


. 131 
. 133 
. 136 


. 139 
. 140 

. 143 




;SSW>- 















PART I 


SOME LITTLE CHILDREN OF LONG AGO 

THE CHILDREN OF CHARLES THE FIRST 

1. GOING TO HAVE THEIR PICTURE PAINTED 

There were once three little children who 
lived in a palace and ate from dishes of sil¬ 
ver and gold. The eldest was named Prince 
Charles.' The next was a girl named Prin¬ 
cess Mary. The youngest was named Prince 
James. 

These children had everything heart could 
wish. Prince Charles had servants of his 
very own, and splendid rooms all for himself. 
Princess Mary had her own servants and her 
own rooms. Even little Prince James had 
several servants, too, as well as a nursery, of 
course, specially for him. The nurses were 
fine ladies in silks and satins. Their mother 
was a proud and beautiful queen. Their fa- 

9 


10 


ther was a haughty king. He believed that 
he had a right to do exactly as he pleased, 
just because he was a king. 

One morning, when Prince James was still 
a baby, the three children went to have their 
picture painted. They did not go to a pho¬ 
tograph gallery, as children do nowadays. 
Nobody at that time knew how to take pho¬ 
tographs. They went to the studio of a 
famous artist called Sir Antony Yan Dyck 
(van-dlk'). 

Perhaps Prince Charles hated to get ready 
to go. He was almost six years old and liked 
to ride his hobby-horse or else run and race 
with the dogs in the park. When his nurse 
dressed him in his best rose-colored silk, he 
may have felt like scowling. It must have 
bothered him to have such a clumsy quilted 
skirt hanging down to his heels. For all that, 
he stood patiently while they fastened his lace 
collar and smoothed the cuffs over his slashed 
sleeves. Even when they brushed his hair 
straight over his forehead and tied his cap 
under his chin, he did not fidget very much, 


11 


Princess Mary, being a girl, of course en¬ 
joyed dressing up more than her brother did. 
Though she liked to play in the park herself, 
she loved to put on her white satin dress once 
in a while. She made believe that she was a 
grown-up lady instead of a small child. On 
this important morning, perhaps her own 
mother, the beautiful queen, curled her hair 
and clasped the necklace around her neck, 
and then kissed her in a soft warm spot right 
under the ear. Even if a mother is a real 
queen, she loves her little girls and boys more 
than anything else in the world. 

The baby Prince James wore blue silk 
trimmed with lace. He was too young to 
care about that or his lace cap either. He 
carried his ball in his hands. He did not 
understand about going to have his picture 
painted. But Prince Charles knew, because 
he had been at the studio before this. Prob¬ 
ably he told his sister and little brother that 
they must stand very still and look pleasant 
while the artist painted the picture. 

The studio was in a house some distance 


12 


down the river from the palace. So the chil¬ 
dren were taken there in a boat. When the 
boat reached the landing at last, Sir Antony 
Van Dyck came to the door to welcome them 
all. He stood there in the sunshine with his 
long hair lying in curls on his shoulders. His 
velvet suit glistened in the light. 

2 . IN THE STUDIO 

He bowed very low to the queen and the 
ladies with her. Then he showed them and 
the children into his studio, and began to mix 
his paints. There were several line gentlemen 
talking and laughing together in the large room. 
This studio happened to be a favorite meeting 
place for young men of fashion and society 
beauties. Very likely the children were not 
much interested in the sight of gay silken 
clothes and shining swords, because they were 
used to such things at home. 

The little visitors were placed in position. 
Prince James stood on a step, with his ball in 
his hands. Princess Mary stood beside him. 
She did not have anything in her hands. Per- 


13 


haps she had dropped the rose which lay on 
the rug in front of her. Prince Charles was 
next to her, with his hand resting on the head 
of Sir Antony’s big dog. 

While they stood there, the artist painted 
away at the piece of canvas on his easel. He 
held the palette on his left thumb and the 
brush in his right hand. The ladies and 
gentlemen chatted together on the other side 
of the room. From behind a curtain came 
the sound of sweet music. The children en¬ 
joyed the music so much that they forgot to 
feel tired from standing still so long. 

After painting for half an hour, the artist 
said that that would do for the day. He told 
them to come again the next morning. So 
they came again, and again till he had finished 
the faces. Then he asked the queen to send 
him the three little dresses. He said he could 
paint that part of the picture while the chil¬ 
dren were at home. 

When the picture was finally done, the king 
and queen must have been delighted. The 
three little figures were very lovely. There 


14 


was richness in the shimmer and sheen of the 
delicate silks. The beautiful coloring — rose, 
blue, and white — contrasted with the dark 
hair and eyes of the royal babies. They looked, 
indeed, like the children of a fair queen and a 
proud king. 

3 . WHAT BECAME OF THEM AFTERWARD 

Years afterward, the king, Charles the First, 
was beheaded by his angry people, and his 
family was scattered. Prince Charles became 
King Charles the Second. He was so fond of 
pleasure that he was nicknamed the “ Merry 
Monarch.” Dogs were always his favorite pets. 
They followed him even to the grave meet¬ 
ings of his Council. There, instead of listen¬ 
ing to tiresome speeches, he used to play with 
the dogs under the table. A certain breed of 
small spaniels has been called after him King 
Charles Spa?iiels. 

Princess Mary was married at the age of ten 
to the young Prince of Orange. They had a 
splendid little wedding, almost like a doll’s 
wedding. But the little bride did not go to 


15 


live in lier husband’s country for several years. 
When at last she traveled from England across 
the narrow sea, she proved to be a wise and 
good princess. She was kind to her husband’s 
people. She was always ready to help her 
brothers when they were in trouble at home. 

Prince James grew up to be a great naval 
warrior. He fought and won battles at sea. 
After the death of his brother, King Charles 
the Second, he became King James the Second. 
He did not have a happy reign. Finally, after 
quarreling bitterly with his subjects in Eng¬ 
land, he fled to France. 

Perhaps when James had become a sad old 
man, he saw this painting again. It must 
have reminded him of the time when he had 
been a lovely baby. At twilight, in the old 
days, his mother used to steal away from the 
gay company in the palace halls to sing him 
to sleep. She had such a beautiful voice 
that people waited at the door to listen 
to her cradle songs. The poor old king was 
glad that he had these happy hours to re¬ 
member. 


10 


He remembered many other happy hours, too. 
When other babies came to the king and queen, 
James felt almost as big as his brother Charles. 
All the children used to play in a park shady 
with great trees and green with grass. There 
was one oak tree that belonged specially to 
them. A seat was built high among the 
branches. The little girls used to keep house 
there. The little boys used to climb and swing, 
or else turn somersaults on the ground. 
Even if they did live in a palace and have silks 
to wear and servants to wait on them, they 
were like other young people in loving all 
sorts of fun. 

Indeed children are much the same every¬ 
where, whether rich or poor. Doubtless if 
Sir Antony Van Dyck were now alive, he 
could find many a family of sisters and 
brothers with faces quite as charming as 
these three royal babies in the painting. 


THE STRAWBERRY GIRL 


1. THE LITTLE COUNTRY CHILD 

Once upon a time there was a little coun¬ 
try girl called Offy. Her uncle was the most 
famous portrait painter in England. His 
name was Sir Joshua Reynolds (ren'oldz). 
Every summer he used to travel from London 
to the village where Offy lived with her 
mother and father and sister. 

One summer he learned that Offy’s father 
had just died, leaving very little money for his 
family. Sir Joshua Reynolds was rich, and 
wished to do something to help the family. 
He remembered that, years before, when he 
had been a poor young student in Rome, Offy’s 
mother had sent him money. Now he offered 
to adopt Offy, and take her to live with him 
in the city. 

When little Offy heard this news, she may 
have skipped for joy and clapped her hands. 
At first she did not think about the sadness 


PICTURES OP CHILDREN — 2 17 



From a painting by Reynolds 


The Strawberry Girl 


p 18 





19 


of leaving her mother and sister behind. She 
was delighted at the idea of traveling to the 
great city of London with her favorite uncle. 
It would be such fun! Perhaps she told him 
that she knew how to sweep and dust and feed 
the chickens and boil potatoes and shell beans. 
She said that she would do all the work in 
his house, and make him such delicious tea 
that he would be surprised. 

Very likely, as it turned out, she was the 
one to be surprised. After saying good-by to 
the garden, the orchard, the cows, the pigs, and 
the sheep, she paid a last visit to the little 
schoolhouse. There the teacher in a red 
skirt and a white cap kissed her good-by. All 
her schoolmates sat on the benches and looked 
at her. They wished that they could go to 
the city, too. 

2. HOW SHE WENT TO THE CITY 

Then came the long journey, bumping over 
muddy roads in the coach. That brought a 
change, indeed, for the little country girl. In¬ 
stead of living in a tiny cottage covered with 


20 


vines, she found herself in a tall house set 
close among rows and rows of other houses. 
There were thick rugs on the floor and cur¬ 
tains at the windows and doors. There were 
paintings on the walls, and silk chairs in the 
drawing-room. There were many servants in 
clothes laced with silver. Best of all, there 
was a splendid chariot all gilded and carved 
and painted with pictures on the outside. 

Offy must have enjoyed driving out in this 
chariot, with the coachman and footmen to 
take care of her. Perhaps she used to be 
frightened when she heard stories of bad men 
stopping coaches in the streets, and poking 
pistols in at the windows. 

London life at that time was enough to 
frighten older hearts than that of Sir Joshua 
Reynolds’s little niece. The young sons of 
nobles and rich gentlemen dressed just like 
their fathers, in silks and satins. They swag¬ 
gered and shouted, drawing and flashing their 
small swords when angry. The common 
people were very poor, and always ready to 
burn down houses or to fight. Thieves robbed 


21 


persons on the streets, or broke into houses. 
Some were hanged and some were shot. It was 
not safe at all for Offy to go out walking 
alone. 

In the house Offy probably learned to dance 
and embroider and play quiet games with 
grown-up people. The few books then written 
for children were not very interesting. Doubt¬ 
less, at times, little Offy felt homesick for her 
old home and her merry schoolmates. 

3 . GATHERING WILD STRAWBERRIES 

It may be that one morning the little country 
girl woke up to hear the birds twittering at 
her window. She began to remember the 
summers at home when all the boys and girls 
went off to spend a long holiday in the fields. 
In June they used to gather wild strawberries. 
Oh, such delicious wild strawberries! Under 
the crinkly leaves, or rising on graceful stalks, 
shone the sweet red berries. She knew the 
spots where they ripened earliest. Oh, oh, 
oh! she wished she were there again, and not 
in this bad, black, foggy, dark old city! 


22 


Perhaps after breakfast on that very day her 
uncle may have seen her creeping around his 
studio from corner to corner. It was an odd¬ 
shaped room with eight corners in all. She 
seemed to be bending down as if looking for 
something on the floor. On her head was a 
queer cap hiding her pretty hair. On her arm 
hung a queer long basket. 

Perhaps Sir Joshua Reynolds asked her what 
she was doing. She said that she was playing 
at finding wild strawberries. Sir Joshua 
Reynolds understood children so well that he 
knew Offy was homesick. It may be that 
he took her on his knee, and asked her to tell 
him about looking for strawberries in the 
country. 

So she told him how the strawberries ripened 
in the meadows when the wild roses were 
coming into bloom. It was such fun, oh, such 
fun ! And she was always the one to find the 
most and pick the fastest. This was the very 
basket which she had carried to bring the' 
berries home to her mother. 

Then she told him about one day when the 


23 


children had all taken their luncheons with 
them. They stayed so late that they began 
to be frightened. The sun went down. The 
frogs croaked from the swamp. The robins 
chirped sleepily in the trees. The wind rustled 
the leaves. The rocks made dark shadows. 
The other girls and boys ran down the road, 
calling her to follow. But she kept finding so 
many berries that she did not start until the 
rest were out of sight. When she looked up, 
there she was all alone. 

Of course, she started to hurry home. She 
gathered up her apron full of the wild flowers 
she had picked. She slipped the handle of 
the basket on her arm. Then she ran. And 
just as she was stealing past a big shadowy 
rock, she heard a long wailing cry that made 
her shiver all over. She knew it was only a 
bird, but still she was frightened. As soon 
as she was past the rock, she ran and ran. 

While her uncle listened, he was watching 
her face. Possibly when he saw her big black 
eyes grow round over the memory of the 
shadowy rock and the long wailing cry of the 


24 


nigh third, he had a sudden idea. It was the 
idea of painting a picture of Offy as a straw¬ 
berry girl. 

4 . HOW SHE LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTERWARD 

One of Sir Joshua Reynolds’s best paintings 
is that of his little niece as the Strawberry 
Girl. In the picture Offy wears a simple 
low-cut gown, trimmed with a breast knot 
and shoulder ribbons. On her head is a 
tall mobcap. Her hands are clasped over 
her breast. Her apron is twisted over her 
arms. The strawberry basket is hanging at 
her elbow. She hurries softly past a rock, 
glancing timidly about her with big black 
eyes. 

The little country girl had a long and happy 
life. Until she was twenty, she stayed with 
her uncle. She petted and took care of him 
in a sweet womanly'way. After she married 
and had children of her own, she often brought 
them to visit her dear uncle. He loved 
children so much that he was a delightful 
playmate. 


25 


After Sir Joshua Reynolds died, Offy lived 
more than fifty years longer. She became a 
bright little old lady with grandchildren 
around her. She must often have told them 
stories of how she had kept house for her 
famous uncle. She told them how she liked 
to go driving in the splendid chariot, and 
how she read to him when his sight grew 
dim. He used to have many callers every 
afternoon. Offy always poured tea for them, 
while she sat watching them with her big 
black eyes. 

And perhaps, before she died, this sweet 
little grandmother made the children promise 
that they would never, never, forget Sir Joshua 
Reynolds. She told them that Sir Joshua 
Reynolds had painted some of the best pic¬ 
tures of children in the world, because he 
loved children truly. 



The Blue Boy 








THE BLUE BOY 


1. WHAT WE KNOW ABOUT THE BOY IN BLUE 

While Sir Joshua Reynolds was living in 
London, another English artist, named Thomas 
Gainsborough (ganz'biir-o), painted a portrait 
of a boy in a blue silk suit. This painting is 
so charming that everybody likes it merely as 
a picture and not because it is the portrait of 
a particular boy. Indeed, very few persons 
know even the name of the real boy. They 
call the picture “The Blue Boy,” because 
he is dressed all in blue except for the white 
of his waistcoat and of his lace collar and 
culfs. 

Some people have tried to find out about 
the boy himself. They have learned that 
his name was Jonathan Buttall, and that 
his father was a rich dealer in ironware, 
and lived in London. After his father died, 
Jonathan sold the property left to him. 
Among the articles were two houses, some 

27 


28 


shares in a theater, paintings, drawings, 
wines, and musical instruments. 

So we know very little for certain about 
Jonathan, except what we see in the portrait. 
Still by studying maps of London and his¬ 
tories of the time when he lived there, we can 
guess quite well what he did every day. 

2. WHAT WE MAY IMAGINE ABOUT HIM 

His father’s house was in a fashionable part 
of London. There were plenty of trees and 
flower gardens in that neighborhood then. 
Not far away there was a pond surrounded 
by walks. Near it was a shop that sold 
cakes and buns. Farther on were fields 
where the boys played ball. 

Very likely when Jonathan was a small boy 
lie sailed toy boats on the pond. When he 
grew bigger, he skated in the winter, and in 
the summer he played ball or tennis. There 
were plenty of amusements like fairs and 
plays and puppet shows. Doubtless once in 
a while he was taken across the city to see 
the lions in cages at the Tower of London. 


29 


Of course we do not know whether Jon¬ 
athan went to school or had a tutor at 
home. A large school for boys was down 
beside the river Thames, not so very far 
from his home. Boys were not taught much 
at that time besides a little reading, writing, 
and arithmetic. Probably if Jonathan stayed 
at home and studied, he learned also to play 
on a violin or a llute. The fact that Mr. 
Buttall left musical instruments in his house 
when he died, shows that the family was fond 
of music. Perhaps little Jonathan had al¬ 
ways hated to practice, and that was why 
he sold the instruments at last. 

Since Mr. Buttall was rich, it is likely the 
family went out of town for the hot weather. 
It is almost positive that this portrait of Jona¬ 
than was painted by Gainsborough while he 
lived at Bath. Bath was a fashionable water¬ 
ing-place not far from London. Doubtless 
the Buttalls were spending the season there 
that year. We know very well what the jour¬ 
ney must have been. Let us follow them on 
their way. 


30 


3 . HIS POSSIBLE ADVENTURES ON A JOURNEY 

The family coach came rattling up to the 
door about seven o’clock on the morning of the 
start. The horses stood shaking their heads 
and jingling their bits while the coachman sat 
up straight on the seat. The footman jumped 
down from his place and opened the door. 
Mr. Buttall handed in his wife and stepped 
in after her. Then Jonathan climbed in 
excited and happy. They sat on the silken 
cushions. The trunks were fastened on 
behind the coach. Away they all rumbled. 

They traveled all day and all night. They 
stopped only at the inns along the road to 
eat meals or to have their horses changed. 
Of course the same horses could not keep trot¬ 
ting on for so many hours at a time without 
resting. Jonathan must have grown very tired 
indeed. Perhaps, when he tried to take a nap 
on the carriage seat, his foot went to sleep and 
his neck ached from being twisted to one side. 
In the picture, you see, he is quite a tall boy. 
The coach was not large enough for him to lie 


31 


down straight. Still, in spite of the dis¬ 
comfort, very likely Jonathan tried to be 
cheerful and unselfish. He looks like a manly 
little fellow who would take care of his mother 
and place the softest cushions behind her head. 

Probably he was really nervous and a trifle 
frightened on this journey, because he had 
heard many stories of highwaymen. There 
were so many robbers then on English roads 
that travelers always carried pistols. When 
the coach was rolling along through the country 
near Bath, it may be that a man came galloping 
up and, wheeling his horse, began to wave his 
arms at the coach window. At first Jonathan 
may have thought he was a robber. Perhaps 
the boy jumped in front of his mother and 
doubled his fists. Then when he looked around 
to see why his father did not fire off the pistol, 
very likely he found them laughing at him. 

They knew that the man on the horse was 
only the servant of some Batli doctor. He had 
been sent to ask the travelers to engage his mas¬ 
ter to cure them if they were sick. Many sick 
persons went to Bath to drink the water from 


32 


the springs there. Such a mistake must have 
been mortifying to Jonathan. Possibly his 
cheeks turned very red, and tears sprang to 
his eyes. But it was only for a minute. He 
was soon his own bright cheery self again. 

As the coach rumbled nearer the town, 
Jonathan heard a chime of bells ringing out 
to welcome the new comers. When they 
reached the hotel, a band came to serenade 
them. He must have thought Bath was great 
fun. Beautiful ladies and gentlemen wearing 
silks and satins were strolling up and down the 
streets. Some stopped at the pastry shops. 
Others looked at the books on the news 
stands. Nobody seemed to have any work 
to do. They were at Bath for a good time. 

Probably the next morning Jonathan started 
out to have a good time, too. Though sleepy 
and stiff from the long journey, he hurried away 
with his father for a plunge in the bath. Then 
he followed the stream of gayly dressed people 
to the pump room, where they were to drink 
the water from the springs. Jonathan walked 
up to the counter, and took up the very biggest 


33 


glass there. The man filled it for him. He 
thought he would drink it all. But the first 
swallow almost choked him. It had a most 
sickening taste. Jonathan felt people watch¬ 
ing him. He knew they were ready to smile 
and make fun; so he gulped down the horrid 
stuff and then walked away rather quickly to 
find a drink of ordinary water. He had shown 
them that he was not afraid of a mere bad 
taste in- his mouth. 

4 . HIS PORTRAIT 

Doubtless while at Bath, Mr. Buttall saw 
different portraits that had been painted by 
Mr. Thomas Gainsborough. The people in 
his pictures looked so graceful and alive 
and charming that those who saw them 
wished to be painted like that, too. 

But Gainsborough could not paint a good 
picture of anybody whom he did not like. 
From his first glance at a person, he could tell 
whether he cared to paint a portrait of him. 
When he saw Jonathan coming into his studio 
one day, he must have liked him at once. 

PICTURES OF CHILDREN — 3 


34 


He knew that he could make a charming 
picture of sucli a lovely boy. 

In the portrait, Jonathan wears a Van 
Dyck suit of blue silk and carries a plumed 
hat in one hand. He holds a cloak over his 
other arm. Such a suit was called after Van 
Dyck, the great artist, because the young men 
and boys in his paintings of a century before 
are dressed in that style. For every day, 
Jonathan wore a coat and knee breeches like 
his father’s. He wore a hat with a cocked 
brim instead of one with a long curling plume 
like that in the picture. He used to wear 
buckles instead of bows on his shoes. 

This portrait is charming even in a copy 
that does not show the coloring. Think how 
attractive the painting itself must be, for 
Thomas Gainsborough was one of the great¬ 
est colorists that ever painted portraits. 
Against the background of a cloudy sky, the 
“Blue Boy” stands gracefully at ease. His 
sensitive, bright face almost smiles at us as 
he waits in courteous attention. He is 
manly and brave — a perfect little gentleman. 


THE MAIDS OF HONOR 


1. HER LITTLE ROYAL HIGHNESS 

There was a palace once, and in the palace 
lived a splendid little princess named Marga¬ 
rita. She had ever so many more attendants 
than she could count. There was somebody 
watching to wait on her every minute. She 
was not allowed even to help herself to a glass 
of water. Whenever she felt thirsty, a ser¬ 
vant brought a glass to the nurse; the nurse 
handed it to the maid; the maid passed it on 
to a lady in waiting; and the lady in waiting 
dropped upon her knees and lifted it to the 
rosy lips of her little royal highness. 

Though she had few playthings and no story¬ 
books, still she was being amused or petted 
every minute of the day. Ladies in stiff 
and shining silk gowns smiled at her and 
gave her pretty jewels. Men in satins and 
velvets stooped down so low to speak to her 
that their swords rattled on the pavement. 


35 



From a painting by Velasquez 


The Maids of Honor 





37 


The soldiers in their glittering armor must 
have been interesting, too. Most amusing of 
all were the dwarfs no taller than herself. 
With their short bodies, shaggy beards and 
wrinkled faces, they behaved like pet mon¬ 
keys. They played jokes, turned somer¬ 
saults, told funny stories, and strutted about 
mimicking the haughty lords and ladies. 

When Margarita cared to look at pictures, 
she could find plenty on the wall of the great 
rooms in the gloomy old palace. Instead of 
wall paper, pieces of cloth called tapestry 
hung on the walls. In this cloth were woven 
pictures of men and women and children and 
dogs and horses. 

Out of doors the little princess was taken 
for a ride every day in one of her father’s 
many gilt coaches. Guards of soldiers always 
trotted before and behind and on each side 
of the coach. She had a dog and probably a 
pony of her own, also. Sometimes she went 
to the theater or to see a bullfight in a place 
somewhat like a circus ring. 

Still, for all that, she must have found it 


38 


stupid never to be left alone to do as she 
pleased. She could not visit other little girls. 
She could not go romping down country roads, 
gathering wild flowers. Perhaps sometimes 
in the royal dining room she stared wistfully 
at the tall sideboard with its silver steps lead¬ 
ing up to the top. She may have wished to 
stop being a princess, just for one minute. 
Then she might be allowed to climb up the 
silver steps and play with the polished gold 
and silver dishes away on top. 

Without knowing the reason why, Marga¬ 
rita must have been quite unhappy now and 
then. The daughters of the highest nobles in 
the land were expected to wait on her like 
servants. So of course it was not much fun 
to try to play real games. Even in hide and 
seek, very likely her nurse would have asked 
somebody else to do all the running for her. 
And if she had started to make mud pies, they 
would not have let her even touch the stick 
to do the stirring. It was not thought proper 
for her to do anything except to order people 
around. 


39 


2 . A REAL SCENE IN THE PALACE 

One day when Margarita was quite a little 
girl, she was Avandering through the palace 
halls with her maids of honor, her dog, and 
her dwarfs, her nurse, and a gentleman of the 
court. She went into the studio where the 
artist Velasquez (va-las'keth) was painting a 
portrait of the king and queen. They smiled 
at her and she stood still for a few minutes to 
watch the artist work. When she began to 
get tired of that, she remembered that she 
was thirsty and asked for a drink of water. 

The sight of the little princess receiving a 
glass of water from a kneeling maid of honor 
pleased the king. He told Velasquez to paint 
the scene just as it was. So the artist painted 
this picture called the “ Maids of Honor.” 

The little princess stands in the center, her 
blue eyes gazing out of the flowerlike baby 
face. Her fair hair is tied on one side with a 
bow^ of ribbon. Her silk frock is spread out 
over a wide hoop. One maid of honor kneels 
at the right of her little royal highness. The 


40 


other watches attentively from her left. Two 
curious dwarfs are near the window. One 
pokes the big dog with her foot. Farther back 
in the room the nurse is speaking to the gentle¬ 
man of the court who came in with her. Out¬ 
side the door, away at the other end of the 
studio, a man wearing a long cloak is drawing 
a curtain. Behind the kneeling maid of honor, 
Velasquez himself stands in front of the large 
canvas on his easel. In the mirror beside the 
door the faces of the king and the queen are 
reflected, as if they were sitting in front of 
Margarita. 

This picture looks like a true scene in a real 
room, because Velasquez knew how to paint 
things as he saw them. The light from the 
windows is brighter on the figures directly in 
its path, just as real light is. The room looks 
hollow because the things in it are painted as 
if it were actually filled with air. The colors 
and outlines of the picture frames on the wall 
farthest away are softened by the air that 
seems to lie between the front and back of the 


room. 


41 


The artist Velasquez was the greatest Span¬ 
ish painter. He lived at court and spent his 
time in painting the king, Philip the Fourth, 
the royal family and the nobles. Some of 
these portraits are the best that have been 
made by any artist. A portrait by Velasquez 
shows not only how the person dressed and 
looked, but also whether he was stupid or 
clever, good or bad. In this picture of little 
Margarita, the artist painted her exactly as 
he saw her with the sweet childlike spirit in 
her shy mouth and solemn eyes. 

3 . GROWING UP BY RULE 

At the time when Margarita lived, it was 
the fashion for .women to wear hoops so 
wide that at the theater they were obliged to 
hire two seats apiece. Margarita herself 
learned how to courtesy in such a dress. She 
would, sink to the floor very, very slowly, 
while her brocade skirts would go ballooning 
all around her, somewhat like the “cheese 77 
that children make nowadays. Then she 
would rise again just as slowly, trying not 


42 


to lose her balance as the stiff wires swayed 
back into position. 

It is easy to fancy that the stiff and showy 
dress is like the old splendid life in the gor¬ 
geous court of Spain. Each day was a stately 
show with every act measured by rule. There 
were rules about eating and sleeping and walk¬ 
ing and bowing. There were rules about 
dressing and talking and smiling. The royal 
family had palaces in the town and in the 
country, in the mountains and on the plain. 
Yet they were almost like prisoners in being 
sent hither and thither according to the rules 
of the court calendar. 

Margarita was educated according to rule as 
she grew up. She learned to read and to write 
a little. She was taught to speak French. 
She studied the catechism over and over, and 
she was expected to go to church very often. 
She was taught dancing, needlework, and 
embroidery. Even such a petted little royal 
highness was obliged to do her own studying. 
Nobody else could do it for her. 

Doubtless she was glad to do some things 


43 


herself. When she became engaged to the 
Emperor, whom she afterward married, she 
sent him gifts made by her own hands. 
These gifts may have been suits of clothes 
embroidered with gold and silver and pearls. 

Margarita in this painting looks like an 
unselfish, lovable child. She may have found 
it hard at times to keep the rules of the 
court. But she tried to remember and obey 
them all because she wished to please her 
father and mother. She knew they loved her 
dearly, even if they did not kiss her and pet 
her very much. It must have been awkward 
for the queen to cuddle in her lap a little girl 
wearing such a stiff hoop skirt. 

Still the king and queen and the princess 
and the nobles were like other people in their 
hearts. Each one looked and felt different 
from everybody else in spite of the rules that 
tried to make them all alike. And it is as 
real flesh and blood men, women, and children, 
that they were painted by the great Velasquez 
— “ Painter of kings and king of Spanish 
painters.” 


THE PRINCES IN THE TOWER 


1. THE PRINCE WHO HOPED TO BECOME KING 

A long time ago there lived two little 
princes whose father was dead. Before he 
died, he had asked his brother Bichard to 
help the queen take care of the two boys 
and their sisters. This brother was a very 
cruel and ugly man. He hated his little 
nephews because he wanted to be king him¬ 
self. If they had never been born, he would 
have been the next king. But now one of 
the little princes was to be the crowned 
King of England. 

The elder prince was named ^Edward after 
his father, and the younger, Ridliard, after his 
uncle. Their mother, the qu^bn, and their 
uncle had never liked each oHier. The uncle 
thought that the queen w a sowing to get all 
the power away from him. ^ And the queen 
feared that the uncle would do some harm to 
her children if he could. 


44 



From a painting by Millais 

The Princes in the Tower 





46 


So she took her children and hurried 
away to a church. As long as they lived in 
the church, it was against the law for anybody 
to harm them. They stayed there safely all 
together till it was time for Prince Edward to 
go up to London to be crowned king. Then 
his mother gathered a band of two thousand 
soldiers to go with him and guard him on the 
way. 

Little Prince Edward rode along on his pony 
in the center of his two thousand soldiers. 
Before him and behind him he could see 
the rows of big fierce-looking men, some on 
horses, some stepping steadily forward with 
their armor creaking and their swords rattling 
against their shields. 

For some time they journeyed safely on. 
But before they reached London, they saw 
an army of many more than two thousand 
men come tramping to meet them. And 
there at the head of this strange army rode 
the wicked uncle. He was bowing and smil¬ 
ing and saying that lie was glad to see his 
dear little nephew alive and well and happy. 


47 


He said that he had been in such a hurry to 
wish the prince joy that he could not bear to 
wait in the city. 

Then the first thing the wicked uncle did 
was to order his men to seize the two good 
nobles at the head of the queen’s soldiers. 
He had them carried away to prison, though 
Prince Edward wept and begged him not to 
hurt them. 

After that, the wicked uncle rode along 
beside his nephew. He talked so pleasantly 
and seemed so kind that Prince Edward for¬ 
got to be afraid of him. When they reached 
London, all the soldiers were drawn up in 
a grand procession. They went parading 
through the city streets with drums beat¬ 
ing, horns tooting, bells ringing, and people 
shouting, “ Long live the King! ” 

At the head of the procession rode the 
wicked uncle all in black, as if mourning for 
his brother, the dead king. With his cap in 
his hand, he kept bowing to the people on 
this side and that. Every few minutes he 
turned around to point to Prince Edward. The 


48 


new little king wore a flowing cloak of purple 
velvet and a liat with a long feather. Per¬ 
haps his pony’s bridle was trimmed with 
silver, and the saddle with fringes of gold. 

It must have been fun to smile at the 
people, and to watch the boys throw up their 
hats. It was pleasant to hear everybody 
shout, “Long live the King!” He thought 
that of course he would live a long, long 
time. He wanted to be such a wise and 
good and noble king that everybody would 
love him more and more the longer he 
should live. 

For the first few days, while he waited for 
the day of the crowning, he lived in the 
palace. It was very hard to wait. He kept 
thinking of the day of crowning with its 
bonfires and games and races and dancing, 
roasted oxen, torchlight parades, and singing. 
And then he would stand up before all 
the people, and be crowned with his father’s 
gold crown. He thought that he would 
reign over England for years and years and 
years. 


49 


2 . THE WICKED UNCLE 

After a short time, his uncle told him that 
it was not safe for him to stay in the palace. 
He must go to the Tower of London, which had 
strong stone walls and heavy doors to protect 
him from his enemies. Perhaps the thirteen- 
year-old boy wondered why he had enemies, 
since he had never done anybody any harm. 
Perhaps he did not want to go to the gloomy 
old Tower. But he was only a little boy, 
while his uncle was a strong man. So Prince 
Edward had to leave the beautiful palace and 
go to be shut up in a place that was really 
a prison. 

The days went creeping by, one after 
another. Little Prince Edward waited and 
waited in the lonely old Tower, but nobody 
came except the man who brought his meals. 
Then one day the door swung open and his 
younger brother, Prince Richard, ran in and 
threw his arms around his neck. 

Prince Richard said that the uncle had 
sent to their mother, and told her that Prince 

PICTURES OP CHILDREN— 4 


50 


Edward was lonesome without his brother. 
The queen had to let little Richard also go to 
London, because the wicked uncle ordered it. 
She moaned and wept, with her yellow hair 
hanging loose over her shoulders. Now here 
were the two princes shut up in the Tower. 

There were four soldiers to guard them. 
Day after day dragged by, — day after day — 
bringing no word from their mother or their 
uncle. Sometimes, hand in hand, they stole 
through the gloomy halls. They shivered 
at the touch of the damp old walls. They 
shrank closer together at every sudden sound. 
Sometimes they crept up the stairs and looked 
from the narrow windows upon the sunshiny 
world outside. Far below them was the city 
full of busy crowds who seemed to have for¬ 
gotten all about their little king. 

Then one dreadful night the keeper of the 
Tower saw a man come galloping up to the 
gate. This man had an order from the wicked 
uncle, telling the keeper to give up the keys 
of the Tower just for one night to this man. 
The keeper did so. The next morning the 


51 


stranger handed back the keys, and rode 
away. But when the keeper went to unlock 
the doors that day, he found that some¬ 
thing terrible had happened. The room 
where the two little princes had fallen asleep 
was empty. And nobody ever saw them again. 

The wicked uncle lived two years longer as 
King Richard III. It is said that he was never 
happy again. He lost his baby son for whom 
he had wished to gain the throne. Wherever 
he went, he kept whirling about, with his 
hand on his dagger, his eyes darting this way 
and that as if he feared some hidden enemy. 
At night he could not rest because of horrible 
dreams that made him spring up in terror, 
and run to and fro. At last he was killed in 
battle. 

Sometime after his death, two men told 
how they had been hired to smother the little 
princes as they lay sleeping in each other’s 
arms. 

Two hundred years later, a mason, who was 
repairing a staircase in the Tower of London, 
dug up the skeletons of two young boys buried 


52 


under a heap of stones. That is all that has 
ever been found of the Princes in the Tower. 

3 . THIS PICTURE OF THE PRINCES 

Many centuries passed away before this 
picture of the princes was painted by Sir John 
Millais (mil-la'), the most popular English 
artist of our time. Millais is very famous for 
his pictures of children. 

One day two fair-haired boys were brought 
to his studio by their mother, to see if they 
might not serve as models for some painting. 
Almost as soon as he looked at them, Sir John 
Millais decided to paint them as the unhappy 
little princes who had died so long ago. 

Although this was to be only an imaginary 
portrait of the royal brothers, the painter 
was careful to have the models dressed like 
princes of that far-away time. They wore 
velvet suits, pointed shoes, and jeweled neck¬ 
laces exactly like those worn by kings’ sons, 
when little Prince Edward and Prince Kich- 
ard were actually alive. For a background 
to his picture, Sir John Millais went to the 


53 


Tower of London itself, and painted the very 
spot where the princes had been buried. 

Alone at the foot of the gloomy stairs, the 
pale young princes stand, pressing close 
together as if in fear. The elder holds up his 
head bravely. Perhaps he feels that he must 
be brave because he is a Knight of the Garter, 
as is shown by the garter just below his left 
knee. His brother lays one trembling hand 
on his shoulder, and with the other clings to 
his warm living fingers. 

They gaze with startled eyes in different 
directions. Perhaps they have heard a sudden 
sound of steps. On the wall above the stairs 
there is a strange shadow like that of a man 
stealing down with his hand on his dagger. But 
in the picture the murderer never comes any 
nearer. Like true princes, the fair-haired 
boys hold themselves proudly, though their 
hearts are beating fast. Year after year they 
live on, with their delicate beauty unfading 
— the brave little princes of this old unhappy 
time of long ago. 



From a painting by Millet 


Feeding Her Birds 








FEEDING HER BIRDS 


1. THE PAINTER OF THE POOR 

One of the greatest painters of the nine¬ 
teenth century was a poor French peasant 
named Jean Francois Millet (zlion fron-swa 
me-la). His pictures were of country scenes 
and working people, because he believed in 
painting what he saw about him. 

For the greater part of his life he lived in a 
tiny stone cottage in a village near Paris. 
Here with a motherly wife and a houseful of 
children he worked through the long hours in 
the gray light of his studio. Whenever he 
had time to spare, he loved to be out in the 
sunshine. Often he must have dropped his 
brush to stand at the door. From there he 
could look toward his garden, so dear to him. 
Or he could watch the babies, dearer still, 
romping in the yard with its high walls. 

Very likely one day he saw the children 
drop their toys at the sound of their mother 

55 


56 


calling them. They ran to the doorstep to 
taste the broth • which she had brought out 
for them. So Millet painted a picture of 
them, as they sat in a row waiting for each 
delicious mouthful. 

2 . AT PLAY IN THE DOORYARD 

Perhaps the children had been playing with 
the doll and the cart and the basket, which 
are seen in the picture. The little boy may 
have been the horse prancing on ahead of 
the cart. In the cart rode the wooden doll 
wrapped in a piece of cloth. The elder sister 
was the doll’s mother. She followed behind 
ready to fly to the rescue if the cart should be 
overturned. The younger sister trotted along 
last of all. She carried the basket, and kept 
picking up bits of china and pretty stones 
here and there. 

They were parading merrily round and 
round the yard. Their wooden shoes were 
clattering. Their small tongues were chatter¬ 
ing. The hens were scuttling and clacking 
from their path. Then suddenly they heard 


57 


their mother calling. There she was, stand¬ 
ing in the doorway with a bowl of something 
hot steaming in her hands. 

With a whoop of joy, the boy dropped the 
cart string, and made a dash for the step. The 
little sister darted after him, tossing away her 
basket as she ran. The big sister first 
snatched up her darling doll from the ground 
where it had fallen. Then she stepped on 
more slowly, because she was almost six 
years old. Perhaps she felt too much grown 
up to run. 

In the picture they are crowded close to¬ 
gether on the step. The mother tips toward 
them on the edge of a milking stool, and holds 
out a spoonful of broth. The boy stretches 
out his neck, and opens his mouth for the 
first taste. 

The smaller girl rests her arm on her 
brother’s shoulder, and clasps his hand in 
her lap. With her wooden shoes toeing in¬ 
ward, she watches him so intently that she 
opens her own mouth just as he does. The 
eldest looks on with sober interest. It may 


58 


be that she wishes that her doll daughter 
were able to eat, too. 

A hen conies waddling nearer to find out what 
is going on. In the orchard behind the house, 
the father is busy digging. It must be about 
noon, as the shadows are short in the picture. 
The father ought to stop work, and have 
his dinner with the children. 

3 . THE IDEA IN THE PICTURE 

Millet himself said that in this picture he 
had tried to give the idea of a nest of birds 
being fed by the mother bird. The man in 
the background works to feed his young. 

The cottage is like a nest. It has rough 
plaster and uneven stones laid on top of one 
another, like the twigs in a nest. A vine 
climbs up beside the door and overhangs the 
window. The leaves make the little home 
seem like a cozy nest. 

The children sit snugly close together as if 
in a nest. With their long aprons and wooden 
shoes they look almost as much alike as three 
little birds. The girls wear bonnets tied 


59 


under their chins. The hoy has a cap topped 
with a button. 

The mother is dressed in darker stuff, just 
as a mother bird has thicker feathers than the 
young ones. She wears one handkerchief 
around her head and another around her 
neck. She bends toward the children in a 
brooding attitude. The spoon in her hand 
looks pointed, almost like a bird’s beak. 

The children’s noisy play has hushed. 
They are like young birds who stop their 
hungry peeping as soon as they see the 
mother bird on the edge of the nest. And, 
like the father bird hunting for more worms 
to drop into the ever open mouths, the man 
in the orchard keeps on at his digging. 

All his life Millet had to work hard to 
care for his family of nine children. Once, 
when they lived in Paris, they had so little 
to eat that they nearly starved. Their 
friends found them just when the babies 
had eaten the last bit of bread. The 
mother and father had eaten nothing for 
two days. 


60 


Millet’s first thought was always for his 
little sons and daughters. He had to work 
day in and day out to earn enough money to 
buy food and fire and clothes for them. 
Since he had to work so hard himself, 
he thought of birds as working to feed their 
young ones. 

Like all of Millet’s pictures, this one of 
“ Feeding Her Birds ” tells the story of work. 
The hen must scratch for a living. The little 
sister takes care of her baby brother. The 
elder sister nurses her doll. The mother 
cooks the broth for the children. And the 
father works for them all. 

The beauty of this painting lies in its truth 
and feeling. It is a picture of real people as 
they really looked. The home is a safe and 
happy nest. The mother and father forget 
themselves in living for their children. In 
the little ones they see love and joy and hope 
for the future. 


MOTHER AND DAUGHTER 


1. A LITTLE FRENCH GIRL’S HOME 

More than a hundred years ago there lived 
in Paris, a little girl whose mother was 
the most popular portrait painter in France. 
The little girl’s name was Jeanne-Julie- 
Louise Lebrun (le-brun'). All day long 
Madame Lebrun was busy painting pictures 
in her studio. Perhaps little Jeanne some¬ 
times dropped her toys while she ran to 
watch her mother put the pretty colors on 
the canvas, with gentle strokes of the paint 
brushes. Occasionally Madame Lebrun went 
to the palace to paint the queen and the 
royal children. At such times Jeanne must 
have been very lonesome at home with only 
her nurse to amuse her. 

As soon as she grew old enough to under¬ 
stand how much people liked her mother, she 
was proud of being such an artist’s little 
daughter. Madame Lebrun could not work 
61 



From a painting by Madame Lebrun 


Mother and Daughter 



63 


fast enough to make portraits of all who came 
to her. Everybody seemed to know her. One 
night at the theater a picture by her was dis¬ 
played on the stage. At sight of it, the entire 
audience rose from their seats, and, turning 
toward the box where she sat, they cheered, 
and clapped, and shouted her name. They 
were glad that she lived in their city. 

Almost every evening her rooms were so 
crowded with guests — great ladies, noble¬ 
men, poets, musicians, and actors — that 
there were too few chairs to go around. 
Some had to sit on the floor. 

Of course, such a little girl as Jeanne was 
not often allowed to sit up late. Perhaps 
more than once, after she had gone to sleep, 
she was awakened by the merry talk and 
laughter. Slipping out of bed in her long 
white nightgown, she may have tiptoed to the 
door, and peered through the banisters at the 
glimmer Of lights, and shimmer of silks and 
jewels. While listening to the rustle and 
murmur and music, the clink of glasses, the 
rattle of knives and forks, she must often 


64 


have felt hungry at the smell of delicious 
roast chicken and fish and salad and fruit 
and cake. 

She may have wondered wistfully how soon 
she would be allowed to stay up late in the 
midst of all the fun every night. She always 
remembered one particular night when her 
mother had given a Greek supper. On that 
evening Jeanne and another little girl had 
played at being water carriers. They had 
carried tall urns full of water from one 
guest to another. All the people there had 
been dressed in white with wreaths on their 
heads. It had been the best fun. 

In the daytime, when visitors came to 
have their pictures painted, Jeanne was much 
petted. Probably the men brought her 
sweets, and the women smoothed her soft 
hair. It may be that on some days she 
would stand up and sing for them. Then they 
would clap their hands, and exclaim that 
she was just like her charming mother. 

Madame Lebrun used to say that her 
daughter was the delight of her heart. She 


65 


painted several pictures of herself with 
Jeanne in her arms. She could draw her own 
face easily enough by sitting before a looking- 
glass while she worked. 

2. jeanne's portrait 

The group best known nowadays is this 
which is often called by the name of “ Mother 
and Daughter.” The little girl has run to 
throw her arms around her mother’s neck, 
and is held close in a loving clasp of hands 
about her w r aist. Both bright faces are 
turned to gaze out of the picture. They 
look much alike. The child has blue eyes, 
a saucy mouth, beautiful teeth, and a rosy 
complexion. Her hair is waving loose, while 
the mother’s is curled and coiled, and fas¬ 
tened by a band of ribbon. 

The mother’s white garment falls from her 
bare right shoulder. It is loosely tied with 
a fringed sash, and hangs down in clinging 
folds. Across her knee lies a robe of heavier 
stuff. The daughter’s dark frock is cut 
low at the throat, and has the sleeves 

PICTURES OF CHILDREN — 5 


66 


rolled back to show the plump little arms. 
Her round cheek is pressed impulsively 
against her mother’s soft neck. 

3. THE PLIGHT FROM PARIS 

This portrait was exhibited in Paris shortly 
before the terrible time of the French Revo¬ 
lution. During the Revolution there was fight¬ 
ing all over France. The poor people, who 
had been treated cruelly by the rich for many 
years, rebelled and seized the government. 
Starved, half-naked men and women rioted 
through the country, burning houses, steal¬ 
ing money and jewels, and murdering their 
enemies. 

As Madame Lebrun was known to be a 
friend of the queen and the nobility, whom 
the poor people hated, she was not safe in the 
city. The mob shook their fists at her win¬ 
dows, tore up the paving in front of her 
house, threw sulphur into her cellar, and 
finally tried to keep her prisoner in Paris. 

However, she decided to escape secretly to 
a safer land. She was afraid that some one 


67 


who had seen her portrait might recognize her. 
So she dressed herself as a poor working 
woman, with an old handkerchief falling over 
her eyes. Her little girl wore a ragged frock 
and a tattered hood. Then they took seats in 
an omnibus, which carried passengers from 
one town to another. There were no rail¬ 
roads at that time. At every town crowds of 
yelling men and women stopped the driver 
to ask for news from Paris. At their terrible 
shrieks little Jeanne trembled all over. She 
thought that her house had surely been 
burned down. 

At last they were safely out of France. 
They spent a number of years traveling about 
from city to city. Wherever they went, they 
found people eager to have their pictures 
painted by the famous Madame Lebrun. 
Jeanne was busy studying languages, and 
learning to play the piano and guitar. Of 
course she saw many wonderful sights. 
One was the volcano Vesuvius, spouting up 
lire and smoke and red-hot stones into 
the sky. When the timid city child looked 


68 


at this terrible shower of flame, and felt 
the earth shake under her feet, she began 
to cry, “ Mamma, mamma, must I be 
frightened ? ” 

The mother and daughter, with their beauty 
and talent, were very popular in society. 
They were always invited out together to 
balls, receptions, and teas. Perhaps in time 
the young girl might have become as famous 
as her mother. Madame Lebrun used to say 
that Jeanne wrote remarkable novels and 
romances when only nine years old. But she 
was married early at the age of seventeen. 
After that she was too busy in her home to 
write stories or paint pictures. 

It is in this charming portrait that the 
mother and daughter still live. One looks 
out of the picture with an expression of joyous 
love and pride in the winning little creature 
who belongs to her. The other, with her 
clinging arms encircling the soft neck, glances 
around exultantly, as if to say that this is 
her own dear beautiful mother, and she is her 
mother’s own only little girl. 


RUBENS’ TWO SONS 


1. THE TWO BROTHERS 

Albert and Nicholas were two little brothers 
who lived with their parents in a splendid 
big house. Their father was the greatest of 
Flemish artists. Some people say that he 
was one of the greatest that ever lived in any 
country. His name was Peter Paul Rubens 
(roo'benz), and he was rich, and handsome, 
and good. 

Albert, the elder son, was fond of reading. 
He loved to curl up with a book in a corner 
of the quiet library. Even when quite a child, 
he learned to read and write in Latin. Some¬ 
times he wandered into his father’s studio in 
another part of the house. Rubens often had 
some one there reading Latin aloud to him 
while he worked at his easel. 

This studio was like a school for artists. 
Many young men came to learn how to draw 
and paint. Albert moved softly from one 


69 


70 


easel to another. On each easel was a square 
of canvas stretched on a wooden frame. It 
must have been interesting to watch the dif¬ 
ferent pictures growing more and more clear 
and bright under the strokes of the brushes. 
Here one of the pupils might be painting an 
eye in the face on his canvas. Over there an¬ 
other might be sketching a horse, or coloring 
a bit of sky. Occasionally Rubens himself 
stopped his own painting, and walked around 
to see how these beginners were getting along. 
He pointed out their mistakes and helped 
them finish the hardest places. 

Once in a while the younger son, Nicholas, 
came running in. Doubtless he was more 
active than his studious brother. He wanted 
to be doing something all the time. Perhaps 
he tried to clean his father’s brushes. When 
tired of that, he begged for dabs of paint from 
the young men, and made some pictures of his 
own on old sheets of paper. Then he would 
run out to play again in the garden. 

This garden was gay with all kinds of flowers 
and shrubs. Little Nicholas raced with the 



From a painting by Rubens 


Rubens’ Two Sons 










72 


many dogs, from the portico at the house to 
the pavilion across the lawn, and back again. 
He watched the tame birds, and coaxed the 
peacocks to spread their gorgeous tails as they 
strutted along the wall. 

Probably he had a pair of stilts. Some¬ 
times he climbed up on them and walked from 
window to window of the house. The stilts 
made him tall enough to look in and call for 
Albert to come out and go riding on their 
ponies. He wished his brother did not care 
so much for poking around in the museum 
room. This room had a dome over it. It was 
filled witli paintings and statues, while along 
the walls were cases of curiosities, medals, 
cameos, jewels, and old coins. Albert wrote 
a book about them when he grew up. Rubens 
had gathered these strange and beautiful 
things on his travels. 

Of course he brought home toys for his sons, 
too, whenever he returned from other cities. 
Toys at that time were somewhat like those 
which children have now. To be sure, the 
boys did not have wonderful mechanical 


73 


engines and automobiles. The girls did not 
have such lifelike dolls as nowadays. Still, 
in all ages, children have played with balls, and 
marbles, and dolls, and hobby-horses, and 
make-believe armor, bows, arrows, and swords. 
The babies have had rattles, whistles, and 
jumping jacks. 

2 . HOW THEIR FATHER PAINTED THEM 

Rubens had always been fond of painting 
children. Even before he married, and had 
babies of his own, he liked to draw little an¬ 
gels and cupids. After his own sons were 
born, he watched them all the time so that he 
could find out more and more about them 
every day. He played with them. He tossed 
them in the air. He made them laugh, and 
crow, and wave their chubby hands and 
kick with their pink feet. In that way 
lie learned how to paint their rosy faces 
and dimpled bodies better than ever. 

Sometimes he painted his boys with their 
mother and grandparents as a “Holy Family.” 
Sometimes he painted one of the babies with 


74 


tlie mother, and called the picture a ‘‘Ma¬ 
donna and Child.” Now he painted little 
Albert and Nicholas as angels, and now as 
Jesus and John the Baptist. Sometimes he 
painted them just as his own two sons. 

This particular portrait of Rubens’ sons was 
painted when Albert was about twelve years 
old and Nicholas was eight. The elder is 
dressed in black, slashed with white. He 
stands with a book under one arm, and 
with the other resting on his brother’s shoul¬ 
der. He wears a soft hat, white ruches, and 
gloves edged with fur. 

The younger son is dressed in gray and 
blue, with yellow satin puffs and ribbons. 
He holds a wooden perch to which a 
goldfinch is tied with a string. He has 
big rosettes on his shoes, and below his 
knees. It is a graceful picture of two 
well-grown handsome boys. They carry 
themselves like little gentlemen in their 
tasteful clothes. 

Both children have frank and open faces. 
They look healthy, and happy, and manly. 


75 


It would be hard to imagine either of them 
doing anything mean or cowardly. Their 
mother was so gentle, and their father was 
so polite, that the boys must have been 
early taught to be courteous and truthful. 

3 . THE ART OF RUBENS 

There are several interesting points to 
notice about the art of Rubens. One is his 
coloring. This, of course, cannot be seen in 
a black and white copy of any painting. On 
the canvas of the real paintings themselves, 
the colors are still rich and glowing after two 
hundred years. Artists say that the flowing 
strokes of color are wonderful. 

Another point is Rubens’ love for beautiful 
stuffs. He delighted in brocades, silks, and 
velvets. He enjoyed painting people who 
wore handsome clothes. In this portrait of 
his sons, the silky sheen of their rich suits 
catches the light brightly, here and there. 
The puffs, and ribbons, and laces look very 
unlike the dull colors and straight stiff lines 
of clothes worn by boys of to-day. 


76 


Still another point is the action in his 
paintings. The persons appear to be alive 
and breathing. They are always doing some¬ 
thing. They seem almost to move. In this 
picture the bird almost flaps its wings. Albert 
almost smiles and tries to hold his book a 
little closer. Nicholas almost shakes the 
perch and pulls the string as he stands ready 
to take a forward step. 

It is the life and action in the portrait that 
make the boys seem real. They look out 
of the canvas so naturally that it is easy to 
fancy them still alive. It seems as if Albert 
has just been called from his dreaming 
in the quiet library, and Nicholas has just 
come dashing in from play in the garden. 


JACOB BLESSING THE SONS OF JOSEPH 

1. THE BIBLE STORY 

A long time ago there lived two little 
brothers whose old grandfather was dying. 
Their father, who was named Joseph, took 
them into the sick room to say good-by. 

The old man could not see clearly because 
his eyes were dim with age. But he heard 
the footsteps, and saw faint outlines of fig¬ 
ures moving toward his bed. So he said, 
“ Who are these ? ” 

The father answered, “They are my sons, 
whom God has given me in this place/’ 

Then the dying grandfather said, “Bring 
them, I pray thee, unto me, and I will bless 
them.” 

When he felt them close to him, he kissed 
them, and held them in his arms, before 
he let them kneel beside him. Then he 
stretched out his hands, and laid the right 
on the head of the younger boy, and the left 


77 





79 


on the head of the elder. And he prayed, 
“God, before whom my fathers, Abraham and 
Isaac, did walk, the God which fed me 
all my life long unto this day, the angel 
which redeemed me from all evil, bless the 
lads.” 

Now when Joseph saw that the grandfather 
had laid his right hand upon the head of the 
younger son, he thought that it was a mis¬ 
take. It was the custom then to give the 
elder child the better blessing with the right 
hand. So Joseph tried to lift the trembling 
wrist, and move it to the head of the elder son. 
He said, “Not so, my father; for this is the 
first-born; put thy right hand upon his head.” 

But the old man answered, “ I know it, my 
son, I know it; he also shall become great; 
but truly his younger brother shall be greater 
than he, and his seed shall become a multi¬ 
tude of nations.” 

2 . THE PICTURE 

Four thousand years after the old man 
died, this picture of Jacob blessing the sons 


80 


of Joseph was painted by Rembrandt van 
Ryn (rem'brant van rin). Rembrandt was 
the greatest of Dutch artists. His paintings 
of Bible scenes are excellent indeed. They 
seem as simple and direct as the Bible sto¬ 
ries themselves. 

In this painting, the old man is almost too 
weak to raise his hands. He is propped up 
on the pillows so that he may bless the boys. 
His strong face is softened by sorrow and 
made tender by love. It is a face full of 
character. With his white beard flowing 
down upon his breast, he turns his dim eyes 
upon the children of his favorite son. He 
lays his trembling hands upon their heads. 

Joseph, the great prime minister of the 
mighty land of Egypt, is trying to lift the 
hand to the elder child's head. His gentle 
face shows that he has always been a forgiv¬ 
ing brother and loving son. Now he feels 
that it is unjust to give the better blessing to 
the younger boy, and yet he does not like to 
be rude to his father. 

The mother stands beyond with clasped 


81 


hands. She looks on musingly. She seems 
almost to smile, as if she is glad that the 
younger boy is chosen for the better blessing. 

The fair-haired younger boy bends his 
curly head, and crosses his hands on his 
breast. His eyes are lowered. The dark¬ 
haired elder brother looks up alertly, as if 
eager to claim his rights. 

One thing to notice in this picture is the 
way the light falls from behind the old man. 
The light shines across his shoulders and 
touches his silvery beard. It brightens 
Joseph’s sober mouth. It shines upon the 
mother’s face and the children’s lowered 
heads. 

Rembrandt was famous, most of all, for 
the skill with which he painted the center 
of brightness in a shadowy picture. 

Another reason for the greatness of Rem¬ 
brandt was the power with which he painted 
human feeling. He has been called “ Rem¬ 
brandt the human,” because he cared more 
for what people thought and felt than for the 
way they looked. 

PICTCRES OF CHILDREN — 6 


82 


In this picture the persons are dressed 
richly, as Joseph was a rich man. He wears 
a handsome turban. His wife wears a line 
robe, jewels, a tall cap, and a long veil. The 
curtains of the bed are heavy. The old 
man’s cap and covering are thick and soft. 

But it is what they are feeling and think¬ 
ing, that is more important than their clothes. 
The weak old man is trying his best to do his 
duty, and to bless the children as he believes 
right. Joseph is wishing earnestly to be just 
to everybody. The wife is thinking of her two 
boys. The elder son is wondering what it 
all means. The younger child seems to feel 
the awe of coming death, though he does not 
understand. 


PART II 


PAINTINGS OF THE CHRIST-CHILD 

THE HOLY NIGHT 

1. THE FIRST CHRISTMAS EVE 

Christmas Day is the birthday of a won¬ 
derful child who was born almost two thou¬ 
sand years ago. He was named Jesus, and 
when he grew up, he was called Jesus, the 
Christ. So now we call his birthday Christ¬ 
mas Day. 

His mother was named Mary. The Bible 
story tells how Mary with Joseph, her hus¬ 
band, had come from their home in a far¬ 
away village, to pay their taxes in the old 
town of Bethlehem. It was a long journey of 
miles and miles over the sunny hills. Per¬ 
haps Mary rode on a donkey, wdiile Joseph 
walked ahead, leading the donkey with one 
hand and holding a staff in the other. 


83 



From a painting by Correggio 


The Holy Night 







85 


When at last they reached the town of 
Bethlehem, late in the afternoon, they could 
not find any place to sleep. Every room in 
every house was crowded with other visitors 
who had arrived earlier in the day. Finally, 
somebody showed Joseph an old stable with 
plenty of clean hay in the mangers. So 
Joseph drove the donkey in, and helped 
Mary down from the saddle. He knew that 
they must stay there all night, and sleep as 
well as they could on the hay. 

There is a story which tells how Joseph 
left Mary alone in the great dark place while 
he went out to find a nurse. Upon his re¬ 
turn, instead of a dim lantern flickering in a 
corner, amid big black shadows, he saw a 
light like a blazing fire shining from one of 
the mangers. There, in the very center of 
the light, lay a little newborn child, with 
Mary, its mother, bending over it. 

In a few minutes there was a sound of 
steps outside, and some shepherds came soft¬ 
ly in. They said that while they had been 
watching their flocks out on the hills, an 


86 


angel had appeared, and the angel had told 
them that they would find the child wrapped 
in swaddling clothes, and lying in a manger. 
Then the shepherds went away, rejoicing 
that they had seen Jesus, the Christ. 

2. THE SCENE IN THE STABLE 

No one of those who were really in the 
stable at the time ever made a picture of that 
first Christmas night. The shepherds did not 
know how to paint, and nobody else was 
there. However, hundreds of years later, art¬ 
ists tried to imagine the scene. Each one 
painted the group about the strange cradle 
in a different way. Among the many paint¬ 
ings of this scene, one of the most beautiful 
is “ The Holy Night,” by the artist Correggio 
(cor-red'jo). 

Correggio was an Italian, who was called 
Correggio because he came from a village of 
that name. He lived in the sixteenth century. 
He is still famous, most of all for his great 
skill in painting the light and shadow in a 
picture. 


87 


This picture of “The Holy Night ’ 7 shows 
how Correggio could paint light and shadow. 
The glow from the tiny body of the child 
lights up Mary’s face, dazzles the shepherds, 
and glints upon the angels overhead. The 
shining little form is the light of the picture, 
as Jesus himself was afterward called the 
“Light of the World.” 

The stable seems to have been built 
among the ruins of an old stone temple or 
house. The child is lying on a bundle of 
straw and ears of grain, in a manger of rough 
wood. The swaddling band is wrapped loose¬ 
ly around the small body, leaving one foot 
free, and the lingers of one hand peeping out 
from the folds. The mother kneels beside 
him, with her arms encircling him. His 
downy head rests in the bend of her elbow, 
and she is smiling happily down at the baby 
face. 

At the left of the manger are three of the 
visitors. A shepherdess stands against a 
stone column. She raises her left hand to 
shield her eyes, blinking in the sudden change 


88 


from the dark night outside to the dazzling 
brightness within. From the basket on her 
right arm two doves peer at the child. 

A boy shepherd kneels close beside her. 
He is turning his face back toward the third, 
an old man with shaggy hair and beard. The 
old man is in the act of taking off his cap 
with one hand, while in the other he holds a 
heavy staff. A big dog looks up from below, 
with only his head in the light. 

Behind Mary, Joseph is trying to drag the 
donkey away from the manger. At the open 
doorway in the rear, two other shepherds 
stand near an ox. On the ground are great 
blocks of stone which form steps, with tall 
weeds growing in the cracks. 

Above the manger five angels hover in a 
shimmering cloud. Three gaze at the child. 
The other two look at the shepherds, one 
clasping his hands, the other turning in a 
curve to glance downward. Far away against 
the horizon stretches a long line of blue hills, 
with the sky beyond brightening in the faint 
radiance of dawn. 


89 


3. THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD 

“The Holy Night ” is a picture of the night 
just before the morning of the first Christmas 
Day. The meaning of Christmas is joy. This 
picture is joyous. It is joyous in its promise 
of daybreak along the horizon. It is joyous 
in the wondering silence of dumb animals. 
It is joyous in the lightness and grace of the 
floating angels. It is joyous in Joseph’s lov¬ 
ing care. It is joyous in the reverent delight 
of the shepherds. It is joyous in the happi¬ 
ness of the mother’s face. And it is joyous, 
above all, in the radiant brightness that glows 
from the body of the wonderful child. 

The center of all the light in the picture is 
the little child Jesus. And the cause of all 
the joyousness is the little child Jesus — the 
“ Light of the World.” 



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Adoration of the Magi 













ADORATION OF THE MAGI 


1. THE STORY OF THE WISE MEN 

While Jesus was still a little new baby in 
Bethlehem, other visitors besides the shep¬ 
herds came to see him. These other visitors 
were wise, rich strangers who had traveled from 
their far-distant homes to find the Christ-Child. 
The Bible tells the story in this way: — 

“ Now when Jesus was born in Bethlehem of 
Judaea in the days of Herod the king, behold, 
there came wise men from the east to Jeru¬ 
salem, saying, Where is he that is born King 
of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the 
east, and are come to worship him. 

“When Herod the king had heard these 
things, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem 
with him. And when he had gathered all 
the chief priests and scribes of the people 
together, he demanded of them where Christ 
should be born. 

“ And they said unto him, In Bethlehem of 


91 


92 


Judaea : for thus it is written by the prophet, 
And thou Bethlehem in the land of Juda, 
art not the least among the princes of Juda: 
for out of thee shall come a Governor, that 
shall rule my people Israel. 

“ Then Herod, when he had privily called 
the wise men, inquired of them diligently 
what time the star appeared. And he sent 
them to Bethlehem, and said, Go and search 
diligently for the young child; and when ye 
have found him, bring me word again, that I 
may come and worship him also. 

“When they had heard the king, they 
departed and lo, the star, which they saw in 
the east, went before them, till it came and 
stood over where the young child was. When 
they saw the star, they rejoiced with exceed¬ 
ing great joy. 

“ And when they were come into the house, 
they saw the young child with Mary his mother, 
and fell down and worshiped him: and when 
they had opened their treasures, they pre¬ 
sented unto him gifts; gold, frankincense, 
and myrrh. 


93 


“ And being warned of God in a dream that 
they should not return to Herod, they de¬ 
parted into their own country another way.” 

2 . THIS PICTURE OF THEIR VISIT 

Ever since artists began to paint pictures 
of Jesus, they have liked to imagine this 
scene of the visit of the wise men. To most 
of them it has been even more interesting 
than the visit of the shepherds. Different 
artists have painted different pictures about 
it. This picture, called the “Adoration of 
the Magi,” was painted by Albrecht Diirer 
(dew'rer), the greatest German artist. Magi 
is a word meaning wise men . 

Diirer was even more famous as a wood 
engraver than as a painter. He was born 
not long after the invention of printing. 
During his lifetime, more books than any¬ 
where else were printed and sold in the town 
of Nuremberg, his home. Diirer’s wonder¬ 
ful drawings were printed and copies were 
sent to many different countries. 

In his first painting, the “ Adoration of the 


94 


Magi,” Mary, the Mother of Jesus, is sitting 
with the baby in her lap, outside the 
stable. The stable is an old, tumble-down 
castle. Grass and weeds are growing in the 
cracks of the ruined pillars, and wooden 
boards have been nailed across the arches 
to make a roof. A cow gazes out from her 
rough stall just behind Mary. 

The three wise men have brought their gifts 
to the little child on Mary’s knee. The eldest 
one is bald and has a long white beard. 
Kneeling down, he lifts a golden casket for 
the baby to see. The baby leans forward 
and seizes the cover with his little hand. 
He must have liked the bright color and the 
glisten of it. 

The second wise man is middle-aged. 
He has a dark beard and flowing silky 
hair. His gift is a beautiful vase or goblet. 
He holds it in one hand while he turns to 
the third wise man. This visitor, who is 
the youngest, has a black skin. In one hand 
he carries his plumed hat, and in the other 
his gift of a precious vase. Some people say 


95 


that the eldest wise man gave gold, the second 
gave frankincense, and the third gave myrrh. 
Doubtless the gold is in the casket, and the 
frankincense and myrrh are in the two vases. 
It is said that the gift of gold meant that 
Jesus was a king. The frankincense meant 
that he was the Son of God. The myrrh 
meant that he was a little human child. 

Behind the third wise man, a servant 
wearing a turban is putting his hand in an 
open saddlebag at the foot of the stone 
steps. Farther away, at the arched gate, the 
attendants of the wise men are waiting on 
their horses. Outside the gate a guard on 
a white horse is keeping watch beside a 
steep hill, with towers and castles on its 
slopes and summit. 

3 . WHY THE PICTURE SEEMS LIFELIKE 

This painting is a natural picture of a 
real scene. The bricks in the ruins look 
like real bricks; the boards look like wood; 
and the arches and the steps like stone, 
Mary and the baby look very lifelike. The 


96 


wise men seem natural, too. Their clothes 
are painted so carefully that the silk looks 
like silk, the fur looks like fur, the feather 
looks like a feather. People who have seen 
the painting itself say that the different 
things look as if they would feel different 
to the touch. The sight of the fur reminds 
you how soft is real fur. The sight of the 
baby’s skin makes you think how fine and 
smooth is every plump little body like his. 

The wise men must have been rich to wear 
such clothes and ornaments. The eldest one 
has a fur-lined robe and gold chains about 
his neck. The second is dressed in silk with 
embroidery, fringes, and jewels. Probably 
under his splendid cloak the youngest is clad 
in silk worked with gold thread and pearls. 

Think how amazed they must have been to 
find this little child playing in his mother’s 
lap, outside a stable! Day after day they 
had been journeying with their servants and 
treasures across the desert. Undoubtedly 
they expected to see a little prince in a 
palace. They had told Herod, you remem- 


97 


ber, that they were seeking for the child that 
had been born king of the Jews. 

Instead of a royal palace, with guards in 
glittering armor, they saw this old stable 
patched up among tumble-down arches and 
pillars. Instead of lords and ladies hurrying 
to and fro in joy over the birth of a prince, 
they saw^ a cow gazing placidly from her 
miserable stall, while two white butterflies 
fluttered near and a big stag beetle crawled 
over the lowest step. Instead of a town 
crowded with rejoicing people, while bells 
rang, drums beat, horns tooted, men shouted, 
bonfires blazed, horses pranced, and children 
capered, they saw this little child alone on 
his mother’s knee, among the ruins. 


PICTURES OF CHILDREN- 7 



From a painting by Botticelli Carbon by Braun, Clement & Co. 

Coronation of the Madonna 


CORONATION OF THE MADONNA 

1. PICTURES OP THE MADONNA 

Several hundred years after Jesus had 
lived on the earth, artists began to paint 
pictures of him as a real little boy. Of 
course these pictures were only imaginary, 
because nobody knew for certain how he had 
looked. They did not know whether his 
eyes had been blue or brown, whether his 
hair had been fair or dai’k. But they did 
know that his life had been beautiful, and so 
most of them liked to think of him as beauti¬ 
ful in every way. They believed that his 
mother had been beautiful, too. 

These pictures of Mary with the Child 
Jesus are called Madonna pictures. People 
often speak of Mary as the Madonna , which 
is an old Italian word meaning My Lady. 
Some of the greatest pictures that have ever 
been painted are pictures of the Madonna and 
Child. Already you have seen two of them. 

99 


100 


One is the “ Holy Night,” by Corregio. The 
other is the “ Adoration of the Magi,” by 
Diirer. The picture which we shall look at 
now is the “ Coronation of the Madonna,” by 
Sandro Botticelli (bot-e-clie'le). 

Botticelli was an Italian artist who lived 
more than four centuries ago. His painting 
is like beautiful poetry in making us feel and 
think of beautiful things. He knew how to 
draw each picture so that every line has 
beauty and meaning. 

2. AN IMAGINARY SCENE 

In this painting, called “Coronation of the 
Madonna,” Mary is sitting in a carved chair 
with the child in her lap. She is bending 
forward to write in a book the words of her 
own beautiful hymn. It was the hymn of 
praise which she had sung when she knew 
that she was to be the mother of Jesus. It 
begins, “ My soul doth magnify the Lord.” 
In the Latin language the first line opens 
with the word magnificat. Often the hymn is 
called simply the Magnificat. 


101 


Perhaps before the artist began to paint 
this picture, he was thinking of Mary as tired 
and sad. She may have known that her 
little son was to grow up to suffer and die 
upon the cross. And she could not keep 
from grieving over it. 

The artist imagined that one day she was 
sitting sorrowful with the child upon her lap. 
While she mourned with drooping head and 
wistful mouth, presently she heard a mysti¬ 
cal stir all about her. There was a murmur 
of soft movement to and fro. The air quiv¬ 
ered softly with the whispering of heavenly 
voices. Raising her eyes, she saw angels 
clustering around her. 

Eager to charm away her sadness, they re¬ 
minded her of the joy of the first Christmas 
morning. They sang the angels’ song of 
“ Peace on earth, good will toward men.” 
They told her not to grieve, but to rejoice, 
because some day she would understand the 
meaning of life and of death, of perfect 
beauty, and love and holiness. They called 
her “ blessed among women,” because she was 


102 


the mother of the Christ-Child. They held 
above her head a radiant crown of jewels 
and sang again, “ Blessed art thou among 
women.” 

When they spoke these things, it may be 
that Mary began to feel comforted. Dipping 
her pen in the ink, she wrote, “ My soul doth 
magnify the Lord, and my spirit doth rejoice 
in God my Savior. 

“ For he hath regarded the low estate of his 
handmaiden: for, behold, from henceforth 
all generations shall call me blessed.” 

So on and on she wrote to the end of her 
beautiful hymn. The angels watched her 
wistfully, and the little child laid his hand 
on hers, and gazed at her face with rapt, 
uplifted eyes. 

3 . THE PAINTING ITSELF 

In the picture Mary’s face is very sorrow¬ 
ful. Her fair hair falls in waving locks from 
under her transparent cap. A scarf is twisted 
about her shoulders. The child in her lap 
holds a ripe pomegranate in one hand. The 


103 


other he lays on her wrist as she dips her 
pen in the ink. The linen folded about him 
leaves his soft, round limbs almost bare. He 
throws back his curly head and lifts his seri¬ 
ous little face to gaze upward. 

Grouped about the Madonna and Child are 
five boy angels with wavy hair and wistfully 
sweet faces. The one with the inkstand in 
his hand looks up at Mary as if eager to help 
her. The one who supports the book turns 
his head lovingly toward the first. A third 
leans gently forward to glance over their 
shoulders. The two others are holding above 
the Madonna’s drooping head a crown of 
jewels from which floats a gauzy veil. They 
seem earnestly intent upon their beautiful 
service. In the background is a delicate 
landscape, with trees and a winding river. 

It is said that this painting is like a rose. 
Like a rose it has a circular outline. The 
heads all bend inward like the curving petals 
of a rose. The child is the central spot of 
light, and there the light of the painting 
glows like the golden heart of a rose. The 


104 


faces are like flowers in their fragile beauty. 
The rays of glory above and around the heads 
are gold. They seem to weave a radiant 
network of golden lines that casts a bright¬ 
ness like sunshine on a perfect rose. 

This picture has a beautiful meaning as 
well as beautiful outline and coloring. Though 
Mary is grieving over coming sorrows, she 
does not refuse to give up her only son to die 
for others. The pomegranate is the symbol of 
his suffering. She lets her fingers rest upon 
it, as if to say that she is willing to suffer 
with him. The little child looks upward, 
while the angels seem to be singing in their 
hearts, “Blessed art thou among women.” 


THE MADONNA OF THE ROCKS 


1. TWO LITTLE COUSINS 

Now the child Jesus had a little cousin 
named John. John was a few months older 
than Jesus. His father and mother lived in 
a town many miles away, across the hills from 
the village of Nazareth, where Jesus lived. 
The Bible does not tell us so, but very likely 
the two children were taken to see each other 
when they were babies. 

Perhaps one summer, when Jesus was 
not quite two years old, his mother started to 
visit John’s mother. Her name was Eliza¬ 
beth. Before either of the boys was born, 
Mary had gone on that very same journey to 
see her cousin Elizabeth. So of course she 
knew the way and how long it would take. 
There were no steam cars then. The road 
was so rough and narrow that they could 
not ride in a cart. Probably Mary rode a 
donkey, with the baby in front of her, on the 

105 



From a painting by Leonardo da Vinci Carbon by Braun, Clement & Co, 

The Madonna of the Rocks 




107 


saddle. The journey must have lasted several 
days. The donkey plodded on, up hill and 
down, till at last they reached the town 
where their cousins lived. Perhaps little 
John was playing around the doorstep. 
When he saw them coming, he ran in to tell 
his mother. Then Elizabeth came hurrying 
out and kissed Mary and little Jesus. She 
must have been very glad and proud be¬ 
cause they had come to visit her. 

2. THE ARTIST 

Many artists have imagined how the two 
little cousins played together. This “ Madonna 
of the Rocks ” is one of the most wonderful 
pictures ever painted of such a scene. It 
was painted by Leonardo da Yinci (la-o-nar'- 
do da ven'che), the most remarkable artist 
of the greatest age in Italian art. Besides 
painting pictures, he studied about stars, 
and rocks, and rivers, and machines, and 
chemicals, and problems in mathematics, 
and physiology. He built canals, invented 
engines of war, made birds that flew and 


108 


animals that walked. All his life he kept 
trying to invent a flying machine so that 
men could fly like birds. But he never suc¬ 
ceeded in that. 

However, he succeeded in one way in 
helping men to fly. He painted • this pic¬ 
ture, which makes people think of beautiful 
things. That is like helping their minds to 
fly away on the wings of lofty thoughts. 

In this picture the artist imagined that 
Mary the Madonna, with the angel and the 
two lovely children, are resting beside a 
spring in the shadow of a cavern. 

The cavern is formed of strange rocks. 
Some rise in queer pointed shapes from the 
ground. Others hang from the roof. Plants 
grow between the rounded bowlders above, 
and trail over the rough slabs of rock below. 

In front of the cavern sits a beautiful 
woman, near a pool of glimmering, still 
water. She wears a blue mantle fastened 
with a clasp. Long silky hair falls loose 
about her wistfully sweet face. While look¬ 
ing tenderly down at the children, she lays 


109 


one hand on John’s shoulder and extends 
the other over her little son Jesus. 

Beside Jesus kneels an angel with curling 
hair and wings just lifted from flight. 
Perhaps she helped care for the child on 
the journey. While holding Jesus with one 
hand, she points with the other to John. 
John leans forward with one knee raised 
and his little hands clasped in worship. 
Opposite to him in the light, the child Jesus 
steadies himself with his left hand and lifts 
his right in the gesture of blessing. 

3 . HOW THE PICTURE IS LIKE A DREAM 

This picture is like a dream in its hazy 
indistinctness. Though in this copy you 
cannot see through the jagged opening of the 
cavern, in the painting itself a little river 
winds beyond the rocks. 

Along the river grow slender trees, and a 
tiny village is on its banks. This bit of 
landscape looks far away. Its outlines are 
dim and its colors are softened as if by the 
distance and misty air in the cavern. 


110 


The cavern itself with its strange rocks 
seems damp and chilly in the shadow. The 
outlines of Mary’s hair and cloak appear to 
melt into the dark background, as if dusk 
were gathering in the twilight. The wings 
and the head of the angel show faintly 
against the rocks. The curly hair of the 
two children catches rays of light on the 
cui'ves of their ringlets. Their dimpled bod¬ 
ies show brightest on the rounded parts and 
grow shadowy on the parts farthest away. 

The little bodies look round and plump 
because of the way the shadows melt into 
the light. Leonardo da Vinci was the first 
great artist to notice and to paint the deli¬ 
cate deepening and brightening of such 
shadows. He painted the colors, too, as if 
softened by real air in the picture. 

This picture is like a dream in its strange¬ 
ness and beauty. The rocks are strange. 
Although there are rocks like these in caves 
and on mountains, nobody ever saw a real 
cavern formed like this one in the picture. 
The beauty of Mary’s face and hands is a 


Ill 


rare beauty. The angel, too, is so beautiful 
that perhaps even among angels she was 
more beautiful than the others. The beauty 
of the child Jesus is not ordinary beauty 
of mere curls and dimples and rosy cheeks 
and bright eyes. His grave little face with 
its sensitive mouth seems to have already 
the beauty of goodness. In this picture he 
has the beauty of soul added to the beauty 
of body. 





THE CHILDREN OP THE SHELL 

1. THE JOURNEY HOME FROM EGYPT 

The Bible tells us nothing about Jesus as 
a little boy under twelve except that “the 
child grew and waxed, strong in spirit, 
filled with wisdom ; and the grace of God 
was upon him.” 

However, people have always been inter¬ 
ested in the idea of his childhood. They 
have wondered if he was different from other 
children. Many stories have been imagined 
about him. Some of the stories tell of mira¬ 
cles and wonderful adventures with his play¬ 
mates. Others speak of his knowing so 
much in school that he surprised the teacher. 
Still others tell how he first met different 
persons who afterward became his friends 
or enemies. 

One of these stories is the subject of a 
painting called “ The Children of the Shell.” 
It is a picture of Jesus giving his cousin, 

PICTURES OF CHILDREN—8 113 


114 


little John the Baptist, a drink of water 
from a shell. 

This is the story of how the two children 
happened to meet each other there beside 
the spring in the wilderness. You will re¬ 
member how, in the story of the “ Madonna 
of the Rocks,” we imagined that Mary may 
have taken Jesus to visit John before he 
was two years old. Not long after that the 
Bible tells how Herod the king tried to kill 
Jesus. He was afraid that this child might 
grow up and become king in his place. So 
he ordered that all the boy babies under 
two years of age in Bethlehem should be 
killed. 

Mary and her husband Joseph hurried away 
by night and fled to Egypt with the child 
Jesus. They stayed there till they heard 
that the wicked Herod had died. Then they 
came back to their own country. While 
they were traveling along the edge of the 
wilderness, they met little John the Bap¬ 
tist. The story is that he had left his home 
when only seven years old, and at this time 


115 


was living on locusts and wild honey among 
the hills. 

Day after day, during the long journey 
from Egypt, Joseph tramped on, leading the 
donkey over the narrow path. On the don¬ 
key, of course, rode Mary and her little son. 
Sometimes the way led through wide stretches 
of sand without a tree in sight. Sometimes 
it wound across bare hills where the donkey 
stumbled over big stones. 

At night Joseph put up a small tent for 
them to sleep under. In the morning they 
ate breakfast from their pack of food on the 
donkey’s back. At noon they sat down in 
the shadow of a rock to eat luncheon. In 
some places for miles- and miles they could 
not find any brook or spring. Then, after 
they had drunk all the water in their leather 
bottles, they became very thirsty while 
searching for more. 

Perhaps one day while Jesus was skipping 
along beside Joseph, he saw another little 
boy come running to meet him. It was his 
cousin John dressed in a rough strip of hairy 


116 


skin. The two boys raced on together with 
the lamb that was following John. Possibly 
John said that he knew where they could 
find a drink of water, and Jesus showed 
him a shell which he had picked up while 
traveling along the seashore a few days 
before. 


2. AT THE SPRING 

In the painting the boys are drinking at 
the spring. From a background of shadowy 
trees and a cloudy sky, three baby angels 
gaze down at them. One of them has his 
hands clasped. A sheep with uplifted head 
lies near a pool overgrown with plants. 
Amid scattered rocks one little cousin is 
giving the other a drink from a fluted shell. 

Both children have lovely dark eyes and 
wavy hair. Their rounded limbs are bare. 
A scarf drapes the body of Jesus ' from 
shoulder to hip. John wears a shaggy 
garment of camel^s hair. 

Jesus bends forward with one heel raised. 
He holds the shell with one hand while with 


117 


the other he seems to be pointing to the 
angels. John kneels with one knee resting 
on a stone. His other foot lightly touches 
the earth. The fingers of his right hand 
hold the shell at his lips, while those of his 
left steady the reed cross propped against 
his shoulder. 

Wound about the top of the cross is a rib¬ 
bon bearing the words: “ Ecce Agnus Dei! ” 
This is a Latin sentence meaning, “Behold, 
the Lamb of God! ” 

3 . THE MEANING OF THE PICTURE 

One of the ideas of this picture is the 
idea of unselfishness. Jesus does not push 
roughly up to the spring, in a hurry to help 
himself first. But forgetting his own thirst, 
he stoops to dip up the water, and offer it to 
John, as if he found delight in waiting on 
others. In later years he became a gentle, 
loving, and unselfish man. So, in his early 
days, he must have been a gentle, loving, and 
unselfish child. There is another idea in the 
presence of the lamb and the cross. Jesus 


118 


was to be called the “Lamb of God.” And 
he was to suffer and die upon a cross. 

To some persons this picture has still 
another idea. When Jesus grew up, he 
said, “I am the living water.” Here at 
the edge of the wilderness he is giving 
John water, just as afterward he was to 
give him strength and joy. 

Jesus is the center of the picture. The 
sheep is lying at his feet. The angels are 
adoring him. John bows upon his knees. 
Jesus is the only upright figure — and even 
he bends graciously to his service of love. 

The “ Children of the Shell ” was painted 
in the seventeenth century by Murillo 
(moo-rel'yo). Murillo was the great reli¬ 
gious artist of Spain. All his life he loved 
children wherever he saw them, whether 
as merry beggar boys and girls in the city 
streets, or as the petted sons and daughters 
of his friends. In his own home he had 
three dimpled bright-eyed babies whom he 
often used as models for his paintings. 

This painting has been called the most 


119 


charming of all pictures of childhood. It 
is said that the Holy Child as painted by 
Murillo has more of divine and human 
grace mingled than anything else done by 
human hands. 

It is real childhood that he drew, though 
so gravely and. tenderly beautiful. And yet 
shining out through the glowing colors and 
lovely forms is a radiance greater than that 
belonging to human childhood, however 
wonderful such may be. This radiance is 
a spiritual meaning of heavenly light and 
love. 

Murillo was the artist of a religion. There 
is always a greatness and nobility in his 
pictures. Indeed, even now, hundreds of 
years after his death, the people of Spain 
like to call every beautiful and noble painting 
a “ Murillo, ” no matter who is the painter. 


SAINT CHRISTOPHER 


1. THE STORY OF SAINT CHRISTOPHER * 

Once upon a time, in the land of Canaan, 
lived a giant named Offero. The name 
Offero means “ the bearer . 77 This name was 
given to the giant because he was so tall 
and strong that lie could carry exceedingly 
heavy burdens. Being very proud indeed 
of his great strength, lie decided to find and 
to serve the most powerful prince in the 
world. He thought it would be a disgrace 
for such a strong giant to be the servant 
of a weak and cowardly prince. 

So he set out on a journey to seek the 
greatest prince in the world. After wan¬ 
dering many days, he reached the court of a 
king who was said to be the richest and 
most powerful of all. Offero lived there and 
served this king till one day a minstrel 
began to sing a song about Satan. Every 
time the minstrel spoke Satan’s name, the 


120 



From a painting by Titian 


Saint Christopher 









122 


king trembled and made the sign of a 
cross. 

Offero asked him why he did that. At 
first the king would not tell him. But the 
giant said, “If thou tell me not, I shall no 
longer dwell with thee.” 

Then the king said, “ Always when I hear 
Satan named, I fear that he should have 
power over me, and I garnish me with this 
sign that he grieve not nor annoy me.” 

From this answer Offero knew that the 
king feared Satan. Of course he would not 
fear anybody who was not stronger than 
he was himself. Offero said, “ Since there 
is one whom thou fearest, him will I seek 
and serve, for my master must fear no 
one.” 

So the giant set out to find Satan. As 
he traveled on, he saw a company of knights 
in the desert. Their leader was horrible 
to see. He rode up and asked Offero where 
he was going. Offero answered, “I go to 
seek Satan to be my master.” 

The other said, “I am he that thou 


123 


seekest; and thy service with me will be 
easy and pleasant.” 

Then they journeyed on together till they 
came to a place where a cross was standing. 
As soon as Satan saw it, he was afraid 
to pass it. He turned out of the road and 
walked far away around it in the desert. 
When he came back to the road again on 
the other side of the cross, Offero asked 
why he had left the path and taken them 
all scrambling over the rocks. 

At first Satan would not tell him. But 
the giant said, “ If thou tell me not, I 
shall leave thee.” 

At hearing this, Satan answered, “There 
was a man called Christ which was hanged 
on the cross, and when I see his sign I 
am sore afraid and flee from it whereso¬ 
ever I find it.” 

The giant said, “Then he is greater and 
mightier than thou, who art afraid of his 
sign. And I see well that I have labored 
in vain since I have not found the greatest 
lord of all the earth. And I will serve 


124 


thee no longer. Go thy way then, for I 
will go seek Jesus Christ.” 

At last, after wandering many days, he 
came to a desert, where lived a hermit. 
When Offero asked about Jesus Christ, the 
hermit began to teach him and said, “Thou 
art right in believing that Christ is the 
greatest king, for his power extends over 
both heaven and earth, and will endure 
throughout eternity. But thou canst not 
serve him lightly, and if he accepts thee, he 
will impose great duties upon thee and will 
require that thou fast often.” 

Olfero answered, “ I will not fast, for 
it is my strength that makes me a good ser¬ 
vant: why should I waste it by fasting?” 

“And besides that, thou must pray,” said 
the hermit. 

“ I know not how to pray,” said the giant. 

Then said the hermit, “ If thou wilt use 
thy strength, knowest thou a deep, wide 
river, that is often swollen with rains, and 
sweeps away in its swift current many 
of those who would cross?” 


125 


Offero said, “ I know sucli a stream.” 

“Then go there,” said the hermit, “and 
aid those who struggle with its waves; and 
the weak and the little ones, bear thou 
from shore to shore, on thy broad shoul¬ 
ders. This is a good work, and if Christ 
will have thee for this service, he will 
assure thee of his acceptance.” 

The giant was glad when he heard this, 
because that was just the kind of work he 
liked best. He liked it best because he 
could do it best. He went to the river 
and built a hut on its bank. He tore up 
a whole tree to use as a staff when he 
carried people over. He never wearied of 
the work day after day. From the time 
that he first came to that place, not a single 
person was drowned in crossing the river. 

One night, as he slept in his hut, he heard 
the voice of a child calling, “ Offero, Offero, 
come forth and carry me over the river.” 

The giant arose and went out quickly. 
He looked all around in the dark, but he 
found no one there. Thinking he must 


126 


have dreamed it, he went back into’ his 
house and lay down to sleep again. 

A second time he heard the voice call¬ 
ing, “ Offero, Offero, come forth and carry 
me over the river.”. 

The giant hastened out and looked all 
around again. He rubbed his eyes and 
shouted and tramped up and down, hither 
and thither, in search of the child. It was 
a stormy night. The dark river dashed 
against the bank. The clouds raced across 
the sky. The trees bent and struggled in 
the boisterous wind. But there was no 
living person anywhere near. 

So at last Offero gave it up and went 
back into his hut. He was lying awake, 
wondering about the voice, when suddenly 
he heard it a third time. “ Offero, Offero, 
come forth and carry me over the river.” 

The giant jumped up instantly, seized 
his lantern, and rushed out to answer the 
call. There on the shore close to the water 
he found a little child. Perhaps Offero 
thought it was strange for a child to be out 


127 


alone at night. But he knew that his busi¬ 
ness was to help people across the river. 
So when the little child begged again to be 
carried over, the giant lifted him up on his 
shoulders. Taking his staff, he waded into 
the river. 

The wind began to blow harder. The 
waves dashed higher. The noise of the 
water was like thunder. The child on the 
giant’s shoulder seemed to grow heavier 
and heavier. The farther Offero struggled 
on, the deeper surged the water, and the heav¬ 
ier grew the child. His weight pressed down 
on the strong frame beneath him so crush- 
ingly that Offero began to fear that he 
could not take another step. He was afraid 
he would fall down into the river, and that 
they would both be drowned. 

With the aid of his staff he kept on till 
at last he reached the other side and set 
the child down on the ground. Offero 
said, “Child, who art thou? Had I borne 
the whole world upon my shoulders, it 
could not have been heavier.” 


128 


The child answered, “ Marvel not, for thou 
hast borne on thy shoulder him who made 
the world. I am Jesus Christ, the king 
whom thou servest in this work. And 
that thou inayest know that I say to thee 
truth, set thy staff in the earth by the 
house, and thou shalt see to-morrow that 
it shall bear flowers and fruit.” 

Then the child vanished in the dark¬ 
ness. The giant set his staff in the earth. 
When he arose the next morning, he found 
his staff like a palm tree, bearing flowers, 
leaves, and dates. In this way he knew 
that he really served the most powerful 
prince in the world. From that time 
forth he was known as Clirist-offero, or 
Christopher, the Christ-bearer. 

2 . THE PAINTING 

This picture of Saint Christopher was 
painted by Titian (tish'an), a great Vene¬ 
tian artist of the sixteenth century. Titian 
lived almost a hundred years. During 
his long life he painted many kinds of pic- 


129 


tures. He painted saints and madonnas, 
old men, young men and children, emper¬ 
ors, and common people. He painted scenes 
from history and from mythology and from 
real life around him in Venice. All his 
paintings are wonderful because of their 
splendid coloring and because of the life 
and energy in the figures. 

This picture of Saint Christopher is 
painted on the wall of a palace in Ven¬ 
ice. For nearly four hundred years the 
giant in the painting has stood there lean¬ 
ing on his staff in the middle of the river, 
his robe blowing in the fierce wind, his 
muscles straining to support the terrible 
weight of the tiny child on his shoulder. 
He turns his shaggy head to gaze at 
the little face above in mute and won¬ 
dering agony as he struggles to keep from 
sinking beneath the overwhelming burden. 

There is an old belief that the sight of 
Saint Christopher will give strength to the 
weak and the weary. In many of the pic¬ 
tures of this giant saint is an inscription like 

PICTURES of children — 9 


130 


this: “Whoever shall behold the image of 
Saint Christopher, on that day, shall not faint 
or fail.” 

There is a certain truth in this belief. A 
person could take courage from the sight of 
such a man struggling on step by step, bend¬ 
ing lower and lower beneath his burden, 
fainting and almost falling, but never giving 
up. When Offero felt that he could not bear 
it any longer and that they would both be 
drowned, he might have pushed the child off 
into the river, and then escaped alone. But 
no! He knew that his duty was to carry the 
baby across and set him safely on the shore. 
Christopher is the ideal of a saint who forgot 
himself in serving others. 


THE FINDING OF CHRIST IN THE TEMPLE 

1. THE BIBLE STORY 

After the return of the child Jesus from 
Egypt, the Bible tells us only one story about 
him as a little boy. It is told in this way: — 

“ Now his parents went to Jerusalem every 
year at the feast of the passover. 

“And when he was twelve years old, they 
went up to Jerusalem after the custom of the 
feast. 

“And when they had fulfilled the days, as 
they returned, the child Jesus tarried behind 
in Jerusalem; and Joseph and his mother 
knew not of it. 

“But they, supposing him to have been in 
the company, went a day’s journey; and 
they sought him among their kinsfolk and 
acquaintance. 

“And when they found him not, they turned 
back again to Jerusalem, seeking him. 

“And it came to pass, that after three days, 


131 




The Finding of Christ in the Temple 


















133 


they found him in the temple, sitting in the 
midst of the doctors, both hearing them, and 
asking them questions. 

“ And all that heard him were astonished at 
his understanding and answers. 

“And when they saw him, they were amazed: 
and his mother said unto him, Son, why hast 
thou thus dealt with us ? Behold, thy father 
and I have sought thee sorrowing. 

“And he said unto them, How is it that ye 
sought me ? wist ye not that I must be about 
my Father’s business? 

“And they understood not the saying which 
he spake unto them. 

“And he went down with them, and came to 
Nazareth, and was subject unto them: but 
his mother kept all these sayings in her 
heart. 

“And Jesus increased in wisdom and stat¬ 
ure, and in favor with God and man.” 

2 . THE PAINTING 

Many artists have imagined what the scene 
in the temple might have been when the boy 


134 


was found by liis parents. Most of these 
paintings show Jesus on a throne or platform, 
talking to the wise men below him. He 
seems to be preaching rather than inquiring. 
In other pictures, he appears more as a child 
who is eager to learn from the priests around 
him, and this is the idea in Holman Hunt’s 
“ Finding of Christ in the Temple.” 

In this great painting, Mary and Joseph 
have just come hurrying up the temple steps 
in their search for the lost boy. At sight of 
them, he has sprung up from his place on 
the floor at the feet of the wise men. His 
mother puts her arm about his shoulder 
and draws him to her with an expression 
of deepest love. Though the child bends 
toward her, and grasps her wrist with one 
hand, with the other he is tightening the 
buckle of his girdle, and his eyes are looking 
far away. He seems to be thinking still the 
wonderful thoughts that had come to him 
in the temple. Behind the mother and son 
stands Joseph with his carpenter’s tools. 

Seven priests in rich costumes are sitting 


135 


on a semicircular divan. The first one looks 
very old and blind. In his arms he holds a 
roll of the religious law. Behind him a boy 
lifts the covering of the roll to kiss it rev¬ 
erently. Near him three choristers with 
musical instruments watch the meeting. The 
second priest turns to speak to the blind one. 
He holds in his hand a small case containing 
quotations from the Old Testament. The 
third has a scroll open on his knee, while he 
gazes thoughtfully at Jesus. One of the 
others is ready to drink a bowl of wine, 
which is being poured by a servant behind 
him. 

At the back of the room is a boy waving a 
scarf to frighten away some doves. Beyond 
him is a group of people near a gilded lattice- 
work. Behind Joseph is a blind beggar on 
the temple steps. Down in the courtyard 
some builders are at work over an unfinished 
cornerstone. Above the building, with its 
columns, a cluster of pointed, dark trees 
shows against a plain beneath a glimpse of 
sky. 


136 


3. THE MEANING OF THE PICTURE 

Holman Hunt, the artist, painted this pic¬ 
ture not many years ago. Before trying to 
plan this scene, Mr. Hunt went to Palestine, 
where Jesus had lived, to study the land¬ 
scape there, the cities, the men, women, and 
children. He found out, too, how the people 
of Bible times dressed and lived day by day. 

In this picture he has been careful to paint 
the temple as it used to look. He has taken 
pains to draw the floor and the decorated 
'walls and the pillars accurately. The clothes 
of the priests and the choir-boys are what 
such persons wore in the temple at that time. 
Joseph and Mary, too, appear as they prob¬ 
ably looked on their visit to Jerusalem. Jesus 
is dressed like any boy of his own town, 
except that his garment has a fringe. 

But Mr. Hunt did not begin on his canvas 
until he had done much more than study 
faces and clothes and buildings. He must 
have thought a good deal about the childhood 
of Jesus in the village of Nazareth. He 


137 


imagined the long journey over the hills to 
Jerusalem, and how, after the feast of the 
passover was finished, and the thousands of 
visitors began to leave for their homes, Jesus 
lingered behind. For one whole day Mary 
and Joseph journeyed on toward home before 
they discovered that their son was not with 
any of their friends in the long line of 
travelers. Then for three days they sought 
him sorrowing, while he was in the beautiful 
temple, which he called His Father’s House, 
studying the Word of God. 

The artist wished to show as much as he 
could of the deeper meaning in the scene. 
He painted the sunshine passing through the 
edge of the boy’s reddish-golden hair so that 
it looks like an aureole. With the group of 
small figures far in the rear is seen a lamb, 
brought for sacrifice. That is meant to show 
that Christ was the Lamb of God. The 
builders down in the courtyard are working 
over a cornerstone. This may refer to the 
prophecy concerning Jesus that “The block 
which the builders rejected, the same is 


138 


become the head of the corner.” The unrolled 
scroll of the law suggests the later saying of 
Jesus, “ I am come to fulfill the law and the 
prophets.” The wine being poured out may 
be regarded as a reminder of the bread and 
wine in Christ’s last supper with his disciples. 
The aged blind priest, who clasps the book of 
the temple law to his breast, represents the 
old religion of the Jews. The boy Jesus is 
the prophet of the new religion of love. The 
blind beggar on the steps outside brings to 
our memory the miracles which Jesus per¬ 
formed when he became a man. “The blind 
receive their sight, and the lame walk, the 
lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, 
the dead are raised up, and the poor have 
the gospel preached to them.” 

The picture is one of the most religious 
paintings in the world. Its deepest meaning 
and highest beauty are embodied in the divine 
boy’s exquisite face. It is the face of a 
dreamer, pure in heart, gentle, and loving. 
And it is the face, too, of a manly boy who 
is longing to begin his work in the world. 


THE SISTINE MADONNA 

1. THE “DIVINE RAPHAEL” 

The painting known as the “ Sistine 
Madonna ” is said by some to be the most 
beautiful picture in the world. It shows 
Jesus, not as a little boy living on this earth, 
but as a heavenly child enthroned in his 
mother’s arms high among the clouds. It 
was painted by Raphael Sanzio (ra'fa-el 
san'ze-o). He is the greatest of all the 
artists who have painted pictures of the 
Madonna and Child. This is the last and 
the best and the most spiritual of his many 
Madonna paintings. Its beauty seems so 
perfect to those who have seen it that they 
have called its artist the “ divine Raphael.” 

The picture is named the Sistine Madonna 
because it was first painted for the convent 
of San Sisto. It was said that Pope Sixtus 
the Fourth once had a vision of Mary appear¬ 
ing in the sky with Jesus in her arms and 

139 


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Saint Barbara beside her. So Raphael made 
a picture of the vision as he thought it may 
have looked. Pope Sixtus himself was 
painted in it at one side, gazing up at the 
divine mother and child. 

2 . THE PAINTING 

With its looped-back curtains at the upper 
corners, the painting looks like a window 
open toward the sky. A mother with a child 
in her arms comes moving swiftly over the 
clouds from heaven to earth. On one side 
kneels an old man, and on the other kneels a 
young woman, as if to await their passing. 
Two angels gaze upward from the ledge below. 

The mother’s robes are blown back by the 
wind as she moves onward. Her step seems 
as light as the fleecy clouds under her bare 
feet. Her right hand holds the child under 
his right arm, while her left hand supports 
the fold of her veil upon which he is sitting. 
With his legs crossed easily, he rests one hand 
just below the right knee, and grasps the veil 
with the other. One little foot swings free, 



From a painting by Raphael 


The Sistine Madonna 





142 


The two faces, so close together as he softly 
presses his forehead against Mary’s cheek, are 
much alike. The outline of the head is the 
same in both. The eyes have the same shape. 
The mouths curve in the same line. The cleft 
in each chin is the same. 

The mother’s hair lies in smooth bands, 
lightly waving away from her serene and 
beautiful face. The son’s hair is roughened 
by the breeze caused by their swift movement 
onward. The pupils of his eyes are dilated. 
His lip almost quivers. He gazes out upon 
the earth with an earnest penetrating glance, 
as if conscious that he is being borne thither 
from heaven itself. 

Of the two kneeling figures, that on the 
left is Tope Sixtus the Fourth. He is asking 
a blessing for his people below. Raising his 
head toward the holy child, he lays one hand 
on his breast, and points outward with the 
other. He is bald except for a circle of gray 
hair. An embroidered mantle falls over his 
white inner garment. On the ledge beside him 
is placed the triple crown worn by every pope. 


143 


Saint Barbara kneels on the right with her 
face turned in full view. She is resting on her 
left knee, with her right raised so that only the 
foot touches the cloud. Her hair is gathered 
in curls off the temples and is crossed by two 
fillets. Her left hand holds at her breast the 
veil of white gauze which covers her shoulders. 
With lowered eyelids and mouth calm and 
sweet, she seems to be gazing down upon the 
earth below. 

The aureole surrounding the group shows 
nothing near the mother and child but dazzling 
golden light. Then, as it recedes from the 
center, this light grows paler and paler. It 
changes from gold to purest blue filled with a 
multitude of cherub faces. 

3 . THE SPIRIT OF THE PICTURE 

For the past two hundred years this picture 
has been hanging in the Art Gallery at Dres¬ 
den, Germany. There every day it is visited 
by all kinds of people. Some go to look at it 
because it was painted by Raphael, the great¬ 
est of Italian artists. Others go because they 


144 


have heard that it is the most beautiful paint¬ 
ing in the world. Still others go because they 
love it and wish to see it again and again. 
Before it everybody becomes silent, as if 
standing in a holy place. 

Sometimes the Madonna is called the 
“ Queen of Heaven.” In this painting she 
seems a queen, indeed. She moves with a 
swift, free step that is royal in its dignity. 
Her floating draperies fall in graceful folds 
of grand simplicity. Her head is noble in 
its serenity. Like a queen forgetting her 
own selfish happiness, she is bearing her 
son forth from heaven to suffer and die upon 
the earth. 

The child gravely gazes down from his 
throne in his mother's arms. The unstudied 
attitude of the beautiful little body is royal 
in its repose. The deep thoughtful eyes are 
unafraid. The brow is calm, and the sensi¬ 
tive mouth shows sweetness and strength. 
He seems to know that he is the son of an 
Almighty King. 



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